(&s 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


Anna  £.  ^umnpr 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

ROBERT  CORTES  HOLLIDAY 

And 

ALEXANDER  VAN  RENSSELAER 


By  ROBERT  CORTES  HOLLIDAY 

TuHNS  About  Town 

Men  and  Books  and  Cities 

Broome  Street  Straws 

WALKiNO-&ncK  Papers 

Peeps  at  People 

Booth  Tarkington 

The  Memoir  to: 

Joyce  Kilmer:  Poems,  Essays  and  L£TTEBS 

In  Collaboration  with 

ALEXANDER  VAN  RENSSELAER 

The  Business  of  Writing: 

A  Practical  Guide  for  Authors 


THE    BUSINESS 
OF    WRITING 

A   Practical  Guide  for  Authors 

BY 

ROBERT  CORTES  HOLLIDAY 

And 

ALEXANDER  VAN  RENSSELAER 


NEW  ^^SJF  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1922, 
George  H.  Doran  Company 


The  Business  of  Writing.     I 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America, 


TO 

THE  MANY  ACCOMPLISHED  WRITERS 

WHO,    NAMELESS    TO    THE    GENERAL    PUBLIC, 

ACHIEVE    SUCCESS    AND    HAPPINESS 

WITHOUT    FAME    OR    APPLAUSE 

THIS    BOOK 
IS    DEDICATED    BY 

THE  AUTHORS 


f^j  '^  o  O  '.J  'o  O 


THE  STORY  OF  THIS  BOOK 
A  PREFACE 

A  MAN  who  for  some  considerable  time  had 
been  contributing  regularly  each  month  an 
article  to  "The  Bookman"  under  the  pseudonym 
of  "Murray  Hill"  chanced  one  afternoon  to  drop 
into  the  office  of  a  friend  of  his  who,  in  the  course 
of  his  business,  happened  to  be  looking  over  a 
pile  of  letters  from  persons  aspiring  to  write  for 
pubHcation.  His  friend,  with  a  smile,  handed 
him  one  of  the  letters  to  read. 

As  he  read  it,  he  was  inclined  to  amusement  by 
its  extreme  naivete.  He  read  more  of  the  letters 
and  his  sense  of  amusement  grew.  Then  the 
thought  occurred  to  him  that  once  on  a  time  he 
himself,  very  likely,  would  have  been  quite  capa- 
ble of  writing  letters  equally  as  simple  in  heart 
as  some  of  these.  And  he  saw  in  his  mind  a  little 
picture  of  himself  long  ago — long  before  his 
years  of  experience  in  editorial  offices,  remote 
from  any  such  mj^thical  personages  as  editors, 
writers  and  publishers,  but  consumed  with  an 
unreasoning  desire  to  write.     His  amusement 

[vii] 


PREFACE 

faded.  Perhaps,  he  felt  a  little  fullness  in  his 
throat.  What  a  hard  and  roundabout  route  he 
had  come  since  then!  If  he  could  at  that  time, 
when  he  was  so  eager,  have  known  but  a  little 
of  what  he  now  knew,  how  many  sad  mistakes 
might  he  not  have  avoided.  And,  indeed,  how 
differently  it  all  might  have  been  with  him  today! 

He  read  on.  And  his  feeling  changed  to  one 
of  amazement  at  reaUzing  what  a  great  number 
of  people  there  are  in  the  world  trying  to  write 
but  with  no  more  than  the  faintest  or  most  gar- 
bled notion  of  the  business  of  writing  for  publica- 
tion. 

His  friend  had  seemingly  read  his  thoughts, 
for  as  he  looked  up  his  friend  remarked:  "There's 
a  chance  to  do  some  good  'missionary  work' — in 
writing  an  article  about  such  letters  as  these.  It 
ought  to  clear  up  a  good  deal  of  misunderstand- 
ing in  the  minds  of  beginner- writers  who  might 
read  it.  And  I  should  think,  too,  that  editors 
and  pubhshers  might  be  glad  to  see  some  such 
educational  matter  broadcasted." 

The  article  was  written,  and  was  duly  paid  for 

by  the  magazine.    But  the  primary  object  in  its 

preparation  was  an  attempt  at  rendering  a  little 

first  aid  to  persons  seeking  their  way  to  placing 

[viii] 


PREFACE 

manuscripts.  And  the  author  of  the  article  had 
got  a  new  idea — he  might  even  become  of  some 
help  to  others  in  the  world.  He  decided  to  write 
a  second  article  on  another  aspect  of  the  same 
subject.  And  he  went  to  his  friend,  who  had 
before  given  him  so  much  material,  for  further 
help. 

In  this  way  the  articles  in  the  magazine  began 
to  grow  into  a  definite  series.  Somewhere  in  the 
evolution  of  the  thing,  John  Farrar,  Editor  of 
"The  Bookman,"  came  into  the  plot,  as  a  guid- 
ing hand  of  much  value  in  the  scheme  to  pro- 
mote among  writers  unfamiliar  with  them 
practical  understanding  of  present-day  condi- 
tions in  the  publishing  world. 

The  first  several  articles  were  signed  "Murray 
Hill."  Then  the  management  of  the  magazine 
switched  to  the  real  name  of  the  man  who  had 
employed  that  literary  alias.  Maybe  because  it 
was  felt  to  be  more  mellifluous.  Or  perhaps  for 
the  purpose  of  identifying  them  with  one  more 
or  less  known  to  have  been  engaged  in  editorial 
affairs  for  some  time. 

Though  the  articles  were  becoming  more  and 
more  a  work  of  collaboration,  the  one  name  was 
held  to,  for  this  reason:  The  series  had  begun 

[ix] 


PREFACE 

over  the  signature  "Murray  Hill."  Then  one 
Robert  Cortes  Holliday  turned  up  as  responsible 
for  them.  Now  to  introduce  into  the  matter  a 
third  name,  Alexander  T.  M.  Van  Rensselaer, 
might  bewilder  the  readers  as  to  who  was  writ- 
ing these  articles  anyway.  Probably,  they  might 
have  thought,  pretty  soon  you'll  see  there  the 
name  of  still  someone  else.  And,  also,  the  Van 
Rensselaer  and-all-the-rest  of  it  name  is  so  long 
that  it  makes  a  queer  typographical  effect  at 
the  top  of  a  magazine  page. 

A  couple  of  the  articles  were  the  work  alto- 
gether of  one  of  the  authors.  A  couple,  the  work 
altogether  of  the  other.  "The  New  Bookshops," 
for  instance,  is  quite  obviously  a  bit  of  work  by 
one  hand.  Though  this  chapter  is  not  directly  in 
line  with  the  general  character  of  the  others  it  is 
included  as  a  presentation  of  a  most  interesting 
present-day  development  in  marketing  literary 
wares. 

As  the  series  proceeded  in  the  magazine  nu- 
merous letters  came  in  concerning  the  subject.  A 
curious  thing  about  many  of  these  letters  is  that, 
after  referring  to  one  of  the  articles,  they  asked 
one  or  another  of  the  identical  questions  which 
that  articles  had  set  out  to  answer.     Or  they 


PREFACE 

suggested  that  there  should  have  been  included 
in  some  one  of  the  articles  points  which  had  there 
been  given  precise  attention. 

Some  of  the  letters  presented  very  interesting 
commentary.  One  of  these,  discussing  the  article 
"Why  Be  An  Author?",  said: 

But  my  main  reason  for  writing  to  you  now  is 
to  comment  upon  that  statement  of  your  friend : 
"Once  an  innocent  amateur  author  has  shown  a 
story  of  his  to  a  friend  or  relative,  he  is  lost." 
Now  I  do  not  believe  you  could  discover  a  more 
striking  and  important  illustration  of  the  differ- 
ence between  the  American  and  English  tempera- 
ments than  this.  In  England  the  innocent  ama- 
teur author  who  shows  his  work  to  a  friend  or 
relative  is  lost  indeed.  He  is  lost  in  gales  of 
derisive  laughter,  in  veiled  innuendoes  ("Send  it 
to  'Punch'  old  chap !  'Punch'  will  take  anything: 
nobody  reads  it!"),  in  sarcastic  allusions  to  spoil- 
ing good  paper,  to  long  hair  and  velvet  coats. 
He  will  be  chided  for  bumptiousness  ("Hello, 
Rudyard  Kipling,  Junior.  How  go  the  verses? 
Yah!").  His  sister  will  snicker  and  josh  him. 
His  friends  will  ask  him  what  name  he  writes 
under.    His  mother  will  worry  no  end. 

And  some  of  the  letters  expressed  a  friendly 
hope  that  the  series,  when  finished  in  the  maga- 
zine, would  be  made  into  a  "handbook  for 
authors." 

[xi] 


PREFACE 

The  story  of  how  this  httle  volume  came  about 
illustrates  somewhat  its  purpose.  But  perhaps 
a  word  or  two  more  would  not  be  amiss. 

Naturally,  when  anyone  comes  across  a  book  of 
this  sort,  or  of  any  other  sort,  the  thing  he  wants 
to  know  is:  "What's  the  good  of  it?"  That  is, 
what  is  there  in  it  that  may  be  of  service  to  him? 
And,  also,  are  there  things  which  he  is  seeking 
that  are  not  in  it? 

The  reason  for  this  Preface  is  that  the  authors 
want  at  once,  as  their  publisher  is  fond  of  saying, 
"to  put  all  their  cards  on  the  table." 

One  thing  they  desire  to  say  right  off  is  that 
there  is  no  attempt  in  these  pages  to  "teach" 
anyone  how  to  write  anything.  They,  the 
authors,  are  not  professors — bogus  or  authentic. 
Their  business  has  been,  in  the  main,  in  editorial 
offices.  It  is  a  fairly  legitimate  business,  as 
things  go,  but  certainly  not  particularly  academic. 

Another  thing,  you  may  read  this  book  through 
and  never  sell  a  poem.  The  volume  reveals  no 
system  for  beating  the  game. 

Further,  the  authors  have  not  regarded  their 

own  knowledge  of  the  matters  considered  as  a 

body  of  wisdom  analogous  to  the  stone  tablets 

of  the  law.    Their  concern  has  been  to  assemble 

[xii] 


PREFACE 

the  facts  from  all  available  sources.  They  have 
frequently  endeavored  to  give  equal  weight  to 
opposing  ideas  concerning  editing  and  publish- 
ing. 

Now,  the  total  absence  from  this  book  of  any 
Aladdin's-lamp-like  efficacy  makes  it  peculiar  in 
its  field.  But,  after  all,  its  sad  limitations  may 
be  its  merits.  Its  authors  have  felt  a  very  strong 
"inhibition"  as  to  attempting  to  perform  the 
unperformable. 

What  does  the  book  attempt  ? 

To  give  an  intimate  and  friendly  view  of  what 
actually  goes  on  in  editorial  offices  of  various 
kinds.  To  dissipate  widespread  misconceptions 
of  the  business  of  authorship.  To  explain  some 
of  the  reasons  why  successful  writers  are  success- 
ful writers  and  why  unsuccessful  writers  fail. 
To  offer  the  writer  unacquainted  with  such  mat- 
ters elementary  counsel  in  his  business  dealings. 
To  furnish  a  miscellaneous  variety  of  informa- 
tion that  may  be  helpful  to  anyone  not  in  direct 
contact  with  the  literary  "market."  To  eschew 
pendantry.  To  strive  for  simplicity  of  style. 
And  to  seek  to  maintain  complete  honesty  in  its 
attitude  toward  its  readers.  .  .  . 

[xiii] 


PREFACE 

"A  task  for  all  that  a  man  has  of  fortitude  and 
delicacy." 

The  authors  are  decidedly  conscious  of  their 
responsibility.  The  book  has  not  been  written  for 
the  purpose  of  general  encouragement  toward  a 
career  of  authorship.  The  book  is  not  meant  to 
be  discouraging.  In  fact,  it  is  offered,  for  one 
thing,  as  an  incentive  to  introspection.  This 
book  has  sought  to  ask:  "Do  you,  upon  closer 
acquaintance  with  the  matter,  take  the  career  of 
a  writer  for  better  or  for  worse?"  And  to  say: 
"Do  not  (as  many  an  one  has  done)  wed  in  haste 
the  Muse  of  letters  and  repent  at  leisure." 

One  of  the  strange  customs  of  the  publishing 
business  is  to  include  in  certain  volumes  bibliog- 
raphies that,  to  the  average  reader,  are  just  about 
as  unintelligible  and  useless  as  the  Table  of  Con- 
tents in  a  book  that  has  no  chapter  headings. 
The  bibliography  in  this  volume  has  been  de- 
signed, not  with  the  idea  of  simply  acquainting 
the  reader  with  the  titles  and  the  names  of  the 
authors  of  a  number  of  books  relating  to  the  sub- 
ject under  discussion,  but  primarily  for  the  pur- 
pose of  helping  the  reader  to  select  from  the  great 
mass  of  books  published  a  few  that  may  serve  him 
best  and  be  of  the  greatest  interest  to  him.  To 
[xiv] 


PREFACE 

this  end  a  sentence  or  two  has  been  written  under 
each  title,  giving  some  idea  of  the  field  covered 
by  each  of  the  books  listed,  except  in  such  cases 
where  the  title  seems  to  be  self-explanatory,  as 
for  example  "The  Art  and  the  Business  of  Story 
Writing,"  by  Walter  B.  Pitkin,  which  is  obvi- 
ously a  study  of  the  art  and  business  of  story 
writing. 

In  the  preparation  of  this  book  many  persons 
have  been  interviewed  and  numerous  sources  have 
been  consulted.  The  authors  gratefully  express 
their  appreciation  of  all  the  valuable  assistance 
obtained.  Especially  they  desire  to  thank  Fred- 
erick C.  Melcher,  Esquire,  Managing  Editor  of 
"The  Pu'blishers'  Weekly,"  and  Miss  Luise  M. 
Sillcox,  Executive  Secretary  of  The  Authors' 
League  of  America.  The  work  as  it  progressed 
in  serial  publication  profited  materially  from  the 
generously  given  suggestions,  criticisms,  and 
encouragement  of  William  McFee,  Esquire. 
Acknowledgment  should  be  made  of  the  fact 
that  in  the  gathering  of  the  material  for  Chap- 
ters VI  and  VIII  a  complete  file  of  "The 
Bulletin"  of  the  Authors'  League  of  America, 
from  its  first  issue  of  May,  1913,  has  been  freely 
drawn  upon  for  information.    Though  in  the  mat- 

[XV] 


PREFACE 

ter  of  arguments  of  a  controversial  nature  ex- 
pressed therein,  the  position  of  the  chapter  has 

been  held  neutral. 

R.  C.  H. 

A.  V.  R. 

New  York,  1922 


[xvi] 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  ^AGB 

THE  STORY  OF  THIS  BOOK:  A  PREFACE     .       vii 

Amusement  Chakged  to  Understanding — The 
Growth  of  an  Article  into  a  Book — The 
Scheme  of  the  Volume — What  It  Does  Not 
Undertake  to  Do — What  It  Attempts  to  Do. 

I:    APPROACHING  THE  MODERN  EDITOR     .     .       23 

Editorial  Routine — Reports  of  Readers — Know 
Just  What  You  Are  Doing — Futile  Letters 
Are  Harmful — Introductory  Letters  Are  Un- 
necessary— A  Personal  Interview  Is  Sometimes 
a  Boomerang — Selling  Manuscripts  b'^fore 
Writing  Them — Complete  Manuscripts  Interest 
Editors  More  than  Queries  or  Synopses — 
Everything  Does  Not  Depend  upon  a  "Name" — 
Study  the  Magazines  and  Their  Individuality 
— All-Stab  Magazines  Are  Cold  to  Unsolicited 
Contributions. 

II:    APPROACHING   THE    MODERN    PUBLISHER       46 

Most  Books  Are  Published  on  a  Royalty  Basis 
— Submitting  Book  Length  Manuscripts — Man- 
uscripts Are  Read  by  Specialists — Publishers' 
Likes  and  Dislikes — How  Reports  of  Readers 
Abe  Considered — Why  Certain  Manuscripts 
•  Are  Accepted— Publishers'  Rejection  Slips  Are 
Often  Misleading — Some  Reasons  Why  Manu- 
scripts Are  Rejected— Many  Books  Are  Gone 
After  by  Publishers — Selling  the  Published 
Book — Privately  Printed  Books  Are  Unprof- 
itable. 

Ill:    THE  FIELD  OF  THE  LITERARY  AGENT    .     .       67 

All  Kinds  of  "Authors"  Consult  Agents — The 
Demand  Is  for  Vocabularies  and  "Whipping  in- 
to Shape" — Changing  the  Story  into  a  Photo- 


[xvii] 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  III  [continued] 

PLAY — Functions  of  a  Literary  Agent — Criti- 
cising AND  Editing  Manuscripts — Why  Pub- 
lishers Do  Not  Criticise  Manuscripts — Suave 
Rejection  Slips  Make  Many  Friends — But  Are 
Often  Pathetically  Interpreted — The  Uncer- 
tain Test  of  Comparison— Literary  Agents  as 
Father  Confessors — The  Agent's  Just  Rewards. 

IV:    WHY  BE  AN  AUTHOR? 90 

A  Failure  at  Everything  Else — The  Craving 
FOR  Fame  and  Admiration — Egged  on  by  Lauda- 
tion OF  Friends — It  Helps  Some  to  Pass  the 
Time — Others  Believe  They  Have  "the  Gift" 
— What  the  Woulu-be  Author  Faces — Prices 
Paid  for  Manuscripts — Royalties  on  Published 
Book — What  Every  Would-be  Author  Should 
Know. 

V:    SEEING  A  BOOK  THROUGH  THE  PRESS    .     .     109 

Preparing  the  Manuscripts  —  Manuscripts 
Should  Not  Be  Bound  in  Board  Covers — Cor- 
recting the  "Galley"  Proofs  —  Additional 
Charge  for  Alterations — "Page"  Proofs  Check 
Corrections — How  to  Handle  "Engraver's  Copy" 
— Changing  the  Copy  to  Fit  the  Pages — The 
Publisher  Decides  upon  the  Style  and  Forjiat. 

VI:    PUBLISHING  YOUR  OWN   BOOK       ....     126 

Notable  Examples  of  "Authors'  Books" — Pub- 
lishers Cannot  Take  Big  Risks — Why  Repu- 
table Houses  Print  "Authors'  Books" — Monu- 
mental Books  Are  Privately  Printed — "Vanity 
Publishers"  Prey  upon  the  Ignorant — What 
Their  "Comeon"  Letters  Lead  to — Their  "Lib- 
eral Offers"  and  Later  Modifications — Sugges- 
tions of  Large  Profits — Ironclad  Contracts 
Protect  the  Dishonest  Publisher  —  Other 
Schemes   for  Co-operative  Publishing. 

VII:    MARKETING  AND  PUBLISHING  PLAYS     .     .      Hfe 

Treatment  Accorded  Play  Manuscripts — Sub- 
mitting Plays  Direct  to  Managers — Plat 
Brokers  and  Their  Methods — Actors  as  Manu- 
script Readers — Theater  Guilds  and  Amateur 


[xviii] 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  VII   [contirmed] 

Productions — Cost  of  Putting  on  Plays — Num- 
BEB  of  Yearly  Productions — The  Playwright's 
Royalties  and  Contract — No  Demand  for 
"Closet  Dramas" — Publishing  Plays — Symbolic 
Plays  Must  Have  Human  Interest. 

VIII:    CONTRACTS    AND    ROYALTIES 164 

Gentlemen's  Agreements  —  Taking  It  for 
Granted — Slii-siiod  Agreements — ^Specimen  Con- 
tract— Advances  Against  Royalties — New  Edi- 
tions —  Royalty  Accounts  —  Options  —  Flex- 
ible Agreements  —  Personal  Relationships  — 
Validity  of  Contracts. 

IX:    QUESTIONS  OF  COPYRIGHT 183 

International  Copyrights — Copyright  Reform 
— Foreign  Markets — United  States  Copyright — 
Securing  Registration — ^Copyright  Ownership — 
By-Products — Plays,  Translations,  and  Motion 
Pictures — Serial  Rights — Voucher  Checks. 

X:    PHOTOPLAY    WRITING    AND    THE    PHOTO- 
PLAY   MARKET 198 

Not  an  Easy  "Game"  for  the  Inexperienced — 
Few  Unsolicited  Manuscripts  Accepted — Why 
Many  Scenarios  Are  Rejected  —  Scenarios 
Should  Be  in  Story  Form — Study  the  Person- 
alities of  Stars — Prices  Paid  by  Producers  for 
Photoplays — Scenarios  Are  Expanded  Synopses 
— Protecting  the  Non-Copyrighted  Scenario — 
Giving  the  Author  Credit  on  the  Screen. 

XI:    BOOK  REVIEWING  AND  OTHER  LITERARY 

CHORES 216 

Jouknalistic  Success  Not  Always  Applauded — 
The  Fair  Rewards  of  Those  Who  Write — How 
Many  Newspapers  Fill  Up  Their  Book  Columns 
— Book  Reviewing  for  Small  Town  Newspapers 
— Specialists  and  the  Signed  Book  Review — 
Some  Ways  of  Getting  Books  to  Review — Let- 
ters of  Recommendation  Are  Often  "Scraps  of 
Paper"  Only — Study  the  Work  of  Others,  but 
Don't  Imitate — Perhaps  the  Poorest  Paid  Work 
IN  the  World — The  Field  of  the  "Feature 
Story" — Writing     the     Feature     Story — Copy 


[xix] 


CONTENTS 

OHAPTBE  ,  ,  ^AGE 

CHAPTER  XI    [continued] 

Writing  and  the  Advertising  Bttsiness — The 
Work  of  the  Publicity  Man — Using  the  Pub- 
lishing Houses  as  Stepping-Stones  to  Soccebs. 

XII:    LIMITATIONS    OF    THE   SYNDICATE    FIELD     243 

Work  of  Special  Syndicates — Methods  of  Other 
Syndicates — Managing  YotrR  Own  Syndicate — 
Marketing  Syndicate  Material. 

XIII:    THE  NEW  BOOKSHOPS ,.     .     251 

The  Old  Order  of  Booksellers — Increase  in 
Number  of  Bookshops — 1'he  New  Order  of  Book- 
sellers— The  First  "Little  Bookstore" — Book- 
selling A  Happy  Vocation  for  Women — Social 
Activities  in  the  Little  Bookshops — Scope  and 
Functions  of  the  New  Bookshop. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 271 

A   LIST    OF    MAGAZINES    OF    INTEREST    TO 
LITERARY  WORKERS 282 

INDEX       .............     i. 285 


[XX] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 


THE   BUSINESS 
OF   WRITING 


APPROACHING  THE  MODERN  EDITOR 

MUCH  of  what  is  said  here  may  sound  to 
you  very  elementary.  Such  matters  are 
mentioned  because  many  very  elementary  things 
in  the  writing  business  are  apparently  quite  un- 
known to  large  numbers  of  people  who  are  trying 
to  make  their  way  into  a  writing  career. 

Here's  a  perennial  illustration  of  this  fact: 
About  November  first  every  year  multitudes  of 
novice  writers  apparently  sit  down  and  turn  out 
Christmas  stories.  The  Christmas  numbers  of 
most  monthly  magazines,  everybody  knows,  are 
published  around  the  middle  of  November.  And 
you'd  think  that  anybody  would  know  that  any- 
thing that  goes  into  them  would  have  to  be  writ- 
ten not  much  later  than  August,  even  when  it 
had  been  arranged  for  in  advance  and  the  author 

[23] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

did  not  face  the  possibility  of  loss  of  considerable 
time  in  having  to  submit  his  story  first  one  place 
then  another. 

So  we'll  venture  to  begin  at  the  very  beginning. 
You  have  manuscripts  to  sell.  There  are  several 
ways  of  going  about  the  matter.  (1)  Through 
a  literary  agent.  (2)  Submitting  directly  by 
mail.  (3)  Through  personal  friends  of  the  edi- 
tor. (4)  By  calling  upon  the  editor.  Also,  a 
good  deal  that  appears  in  magazines  is  written 
on  assignment. 

The  functions,  advantages  and  limitations  of 
the  literary  agent  will  be  discussed  in  a  later 
chapter. 

§  Editorial  Routine. 

Suppose  you  submit  your  manuscript  directly 
by  mail.  What  happens  to  it?  It  is  received  and 
listed  or  entered;  that  is,  it  is  probably  given  a 
number ;  this  together  with  the  name  of  the  author 
and  the  title  of  the  manuscript  is  recorded  in  a 
ledger ;  and  the  manuscript  is  placed  in  a  safe  or 
cabinet  to  await  its  turn  to  be  read.  It  is  more 
than  likely  that  there  are  a  good  many  other 
manuscripts  ahead  of  it  in  this  safe  or  cabinet. 
In  the  entry  book  of  one  of  our  best  known 
[24] 


APPROACHING  MODERN  EDITOR 

HiOTithly  magazines  the  manuscripts  recorded  as 
received  in  one  day  not  infrequently  number  as 
many  as  seventy-odd.  The  lowest  number  of 
manuscripts  listed  as  received  on  any  day  is  sel- 
dom less  than  twenty-something. 

Next  step  in  editorial  routine :  your  manuscript 
goes  to  a  reader.  He  (or  she)  may  spend  two 
minutes  on  it,  maybe  even  less  time.  If  this  first 
reader  regards  the  manuscript  as  flatly  impossible 
it  is  (provided  return  postage  has  been  enclosed 
with  it)  sent  back  to  the  author  at  once.  If  the 
manuscript  is  bulky  and  you  want  it  returned 
express  collect,  you  should_so  state  in  a  note  ac- 
companying it  when  it  is  submitted.  It  is  advis- 
able, in  order  to  engage  at  once  the  good  will  of 
the  reader,  for  manuscripts  to  be  neat  in  appear- 
ance. On  the  other  hand,  experience  and  obser- 
vation lead  one  to  believe  that  publishers'  readers 
are  inclined  to  feel  something  of  a  prejudice 
toward  manuscripts  that  are  got  up  in  anything 
like  a  fancy  way. 

§  Report  of  Readers. 

If  your  manuscript  holds  this  first  reader  to  the 
end  it  is  (in  some  offices)  passed  on  to  another 
reader,  or  several  other  readers.    It  is  then  likely 

[25] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

to  go  to  the  editor  himself,  with  a  report  on  it 
reading  something  like  this : 

January  9,  1922. 

THE  HAILSTONE 

By  John  M.  Headpiece 

This  is  cleverly  done  with  a  surprise  at  the  climax. 
We  might  consider  it  if  you'd  care  to  use  a  MS.  of  the 
type  of  "Twins."  Artificial  but  interesting.  After  a 
violent  summer  storm  a  New  Yorker  cuts  out  of  a 
paper  an  article  about  hailstones  large  enough  to  kill 
a  man  should  one  of  them  hit  one,  and  takes  it  to  his 
club,  where,  at  lunch  with  other  members,  he  comments 
on  it.  One  of  the  party  denies  the  truth  of  this  and 
tells  a  story  to  prove  his  point.  I  don't  think  he  does 
prove  it,  but  the  story  he  tells  is  ingenious. 

It  is  obviously  impossible  for  the  editor  of  a 
widely  circulated  magazine  to  read  all  the  manu- 
scripts that  are  submitted  to  his  publication.  On 
the  other  hand,  as  he  is  responsible  for  everything 
that  he  publishes,  he  must  make  the  final  selection 
from  the  available  manuscripts.  It  is  the  reader's 
job  to  separate  the  available  from  those  that  are 
unquestionably  not  available,  and  his  report  tells 
the  editor  three  important  things:  (1)  some- 
thing about  the  subject  and  plot  of  the  story; 
(2)  the  outstanding  feature  of  the  story;  (3)  in 
what  manner  the  author  has  handled  his  material. 
[26] 


APPROACHING  MODERN  EDITOR 

In  the  case  of  "The  Hailstone,"  the  reader 
decided  that  the  manuscript  was  available,  be- 
cause: (1)  the  subject  was  odd  and  interesting 
and  the  plot  ingenious ;  ( 2 )  the  outstanding  fea- 
ture was  the  surprise  at  the  climax;  and  (3)  al- 
though artificial  the  story  was  interesting  and 
cleverly  done. 

The  editor  may  decide  from  this  .report,  with- 
out reading  the  manuscript,  that  this  is  not  the 
kind  of  story  that  at  the  moment  he  wants.  Or 
he  may  read  the  story  and  not  agree  with  the 
opinion  of  his  reader  as  to  its  cleverness.  Or  he 
may  read  the  story  and  decide  to  take  it. 

The  procedure  just  outlined  is  that  which  usu- 
ally prevails  in  editorial  offices.  There  is  this, 
however,  to  be  said  about  magazines :  All  kinds 
of  shops  may  be  said  to  be  in  the  shop  business. 
All  magazines  certainly  are  in  the  magazine  busi- 
ness. But  in  their  policies,  practices,  and  require- 
ments magazines  are  frequently  as  different  one 
from  another  as  a  lingerie  shop  is  different  from 
a  cigar  store.  There  are  magazines  where  this 
system  of  handling  manuscripts  is  practically 
reversed;  where  the  editor  himself  looks  first  at 
everything  that  comes  in ;  weeds  out  the  hopeless 
at  a  glance;  and  employs  his  readers  mainly  in 

[27] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

checking  up  his  own  judgments  of  manuscripts 
which  he  has  under  consideration.  In  a  few  mag- 
azine offices  a  lawyer  goes  over  every  accepted 
manuscript  to  make  sure  that  it  contains  nothing 
hbellous. 

Do  not  expect  or  demand  an  immediate  deci- 
sion on  your  manuscript.  Some  editors  take  a 
week,  some  six  months — which  is  about  the  limit. 
Publishers  assume  no  responsibility  for  the  safety 
of  manuscripts  in  their  hands;  keep  a  carbon 
copy  of  everything  that  you  send  out. 

§  Know  Just  What  You  Are  Doing. 

Send  your  manuscripts  to  those  magazines  only 
which  you  know  to  be  reliable — there  are  some 
magazines  that  do  not  bother  to  return  rejected 
manuscripts ;  there  are  others  that  do  not  pay  for 
accepted  material.  Handle  your  manuscripts  on 
a  sound  business  basis — a  business  man  would  not 
send  goods  on  consignment  to  a  stranger  without 
credit.  If  you  want  to  send  a  manuscript  to  the 
"Piebald  Monthly,"  at  Hohockum,  Iowa,  why 
of  course  all  right;  but  first  know  just  what  you 
are  doing. 

Do  not  send  manuscripts  to  a  magazine  until 
you  have  a  fair  idea  of  the  kind  of  thing  that 
[28] 


APPROACHING  MODERN  EDITOR 

magazine  uses.  A  note  something  like  this  turns 
up  every  once  in  a  while  in  a  publishing  office : 
"This  is  the  first  fiction  story  I  have  ever  finished 
up  and  made  a  definite  effort  to  sell.  I  have  sub- 
mitted it  to  'Metropolitan'  and  'Everybody's,' 
for  which  I  realize  myself  it  is  totally  unfitted." 

What  a  confusion  of  objectives  is  revealed  in 
another  letter!  It  begins:  "I  enclose  herewith 
an  article  entitled  'The  Unknown  Soldier.'  I 
have  sent  it  to  'The  Atlantic  Monthly,'  'Judge,' 
'The  Ladies'  Home  Journal,'  all  of  which  publi- 
cations have  declined  to  accept  it."  And  the 
practice  of  innumerable  "budding  authors"  and 
"new  beginners"  seems  to  be  to  send  whatever 
they  have,  no  matter  what  its  nature,  first  to 
"The  Saturday  Evening  Post." 

There  are  a  number  of  publications,  both  peri- 
odicals and  bound  volumes,  which  may  be  found 
of  service  in  acquainting  one's  self  with  the 
names  and  addresses,  the  character  and  the  needs 
of  American  magazines.  The  way  recommended 
by  the  editors  of  most  of  the  leading  magazines 
for  a  study  of  the  "market"  is  to  regard  atten- 
tively the  magazines  themselves.  One  point  in 
particular,  which  should  be  obvious  enough,  but 
which  editors  frequently  are  wont  to  complain  of, 

[29] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

is  that  new  writers  so  little  note  the  length  of  the 
contributions  used  in  their  periodicals.  Don't 
send  a  seven  thousand  word  manuscript  to  a 
magazine  in  which  you  have  never  seen  anything 
over  twenty-five  hundred  words  long. 

Don't  continue  to  send  out  a  manuscript  in 
which  you  have  totally  lost  faith.  From  the  note 
of  a  young  author  upon  receiving  his  rejected 
story:  "I  have  written  and  copied  it  so  often 
that  I  am  perfectly  disgusted  with  it  and  can 
see  no  good  thing  in  it.  I  have  such  beautiful 
ideas  and  when  I  begin  on  the  mechanical  part  of 
writing  or  typing,  I  find  that  it  is  not  at  all  what 
I  want  it  to  be."  Well,  though,  of  course,  every 
artist  feels  something  of  that. 

§  Futile  Letters  Harmful. 

Don't  send  futile  letters  to  editors.  This  kind 
of  thing:  "I  do  not  believe  that  I  overestimate 
myself  when  I  say  that  I  know  I  have  unusual 
ideas  along  fiction  lines." 

It  accomplishes  nothing  for  the  author  of  a 
manuscript  to  tell  an  editor,  as  some  novices  do: 
"I  have  been  told  often  that  I  was  bom  to  write." 
It  does  not  impress  the  editor  overmuch  to  hear 
that:  "After  reading  some  of  my  work  one  of 
[30] 


APPROACHING  MODERN  EDITOR 

my  school  teachers  years  ago  was  or  seemed  to 
be  very  much  enthused  over  it,  and  was  sure  I 
could  enter  without  any  trouble  the  world  of 
literarj'-  work  which  I  have  always  wanted  so 
much  to  do." 

Letters  like  the  following  sometimes  slip  by  the 
mail  clerk  but  never  get  beyond  the  editor's 
private  secretary: 

I  am  what  is  known  as  a  "budding"  author, 
and  I  need  some  pruning  and  care.  The  rejec- 
tion slips  I  am  accumulating  are  like  early 
frosts — they  blight  the  fruit.  What  I  need  is  a 
little  of  the  sunshine  of  success. 

And  so  on.  Simply  tell  'em  (if  you  want  to)  that 
you  have  had  (if  you  have  had)  work  published 
in  such  places,  that  you  are  willing  (if  you  are 
willing)  to  cut  the  manuscript  any  amount,  what 
( if  you  are  going  away  for  a  while )  your  address 
will  be  during  the  next  couple  of  months  or  so. 
Such  things.  And  enclose  this  information  with 
the  manuscript  to  which  it  refers.  A  letter  telling 
about  a  manuscript  must  accompany  the  manu- 
script if  it  is  to  make  any  impression  upon  the 
editor. 

A  tendency  very  prevalent  among  writers  be- 
ginning to  seek  admission  to  the  magazines  is  that 

[31] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

of  referring,  in  a  letter  to  the  editor,  to  some  well- 
known  person  as  a  friend  of  theirs:  "Mr.  John 
Farrar,  editor  of  'The  Bookman,'  has  urged  me 
to  send  this  manuscript  to  you."  Usually  the 
case  is  that  Mr.  Farrar  (say)  has  no  acquaint- 
ance at  all  with  the  person  using  his  name;  he 
may  merely  have  said  in  rejecting  that  person's 
article  that  it  was  better  suited  to  a  magazine  of 
more  general  character  than  "The  Bookman." 
So  this  dodge  is  without  effect,  unless  perhaps  it 
inchnes  the  editor  to  take  a  rather  slighting  view 
of  the  character  of  the  writer  who  employs  it. 

§  Introductory  Letters  Unnecessary. 

Some  occult  power  evidently  is  attributed  by 
innumerable  beginner  writers  to  letters  of  intro- 
duction from  eminent  persons.  Such  letters  are 
continually  being  sought  by  strategy,  and  more 
than  occasionally  by  blunt  demand.  As  a  rule, 
perfunctory  letters  of  introduction  are  without 
any  efficacy.  Indeed,  they  may  even  work  the 
wrong  way.  An  important  man  at  first  friendly 
to  the  young  writer  may  be  annoyed  at  being  held 
up  by  him  for  such  a  letter;  and  the  editor  to 
whom  it  goes  may  feel  annoyance  toward  the 
bearer  of  the  letter  for  attempting  to  run  in 
[32] 


APPROACHING  MODERN  EDITOR 

under  his  guard  in  such  a  way.  This,  of  course, 
is  not  at  all  to  say  that  when  the  use  of  a  well- 
known  name,  or  a  letter  of  introduction  from  one 
of  established  reputation,  is  volunteered,  this  is 
not  a  good  office  to  the  unknown  writer.  But  it 
won't  sell  a  manuscript — where  that  manuscript 
does  not  intrinsically  belong. 

§  Personal  Interview  Sometimes  a  Boomerang. 

No  idea,  probably,  is  more  firmly  entrenched 
in  the  mind  of  the  "struggling"  young  writer 
than  the  notion  that  if  only  he  (or  she)  can,  by 
some  hook  or  crook,  break  in  to  see  the  editor  him- 
self face  to  face,  everything  will  be  all  right.  It 
is  not  impossible  that  sometimes  the  neophyte 
writer  may  gain  something  by  a  personal  inter- 
view. But  what  does  not  seem  to  occur  at  all  to 
those  endeavoring  to  launch  themselves  as 
writers,  is  that  there  is  considerable  danger,  too, 
in  confronting  an  editor  in  person;  ardent  souls 
are  very  apt  to  overdo  the  matter ;  it  may  be  much 
better  to  stay  away. 

Editors  have,  more  often  than  now  and  then, 
become  disinclined  to  a  manuscript  by  hearing  the 
author  talk  overmuch  about  it;  and  the  more  he 
has  talked  the  deeper  has  gi'own  the  editor's 

[33] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

prejudice  against  the  manuscript.  And — ^would 
you  believe  it  ? — there  are  those  who,  having  con- 
trived to  get  an  editor  alone,  put  such  faith  in 
feminine  wiles.  It  is  folly  to  fancy  that  one  can 
vamp  one's  way  into  success  in  literature.  The 
destiny  of  a  Tnanuscript  hy  a  writer  without 
established  reputation  is  in  hlack  marks  on  white 
paper. 

After  a  writer  has.  become  something  of  a 
regular  contributor  to  a  magazine  the  situation  is 
quite  different.  Many  editors  have  a  keen  desire 
to  know  their  contributors  personally,  all  of  them. 
But  even  then  there  is  a  hazard  for  the  writer. 
There  is  a  story  about  this,  a  classic  in  editorial 
offices.  A  magazine  editor  known  to  eveiybody 
had  been  receiving  through  the  mail  a  succession 
of  highly  impassioned  poems.  Flaming  they 
were;  stunning,  in  their  way.  He  used  them. 
Wanted  more.  He  felt  that  he  must  see  the 
author.  Asked  her  if  she  would  not  call.  When, 
at  the  hour  of  the  appointment,  she  was  an- 
nounced, he  rather  nervouslj^  adjusted  his  tie, 
straightened  the  body  of  his  coat.  Considerably 
keyed  up,  he  was.  Then,  was  ushered  in  a  little 
anaemic  creature  of  an  age  sufficient  to  be  his 
[34] 


APPROACHING  MODERN  EDITOR 

aunt.     He  lost  his  taste  for  the  lady's  poems. 
Perhaps  the  story  is  a  fable. 

The  method  of  writing  by  assignment  has  been 
alluded  to  in  a  foregoing  paragraph.  Profes- 
sional writers  whose  work  is  readily  marketable 
usually  sell  their  articles  before  they  are  written. 
This  is  done  in  various  ways.  Magazine  editors 
frequently  solicit  from  well-known  writers 
articles  on  subjects  which  they  have  made  their 
special  field.  When  Joyce  Kilmer  was  killed  in 
France  "The  Bookman"  petitioned  Richard  Le 
Gallienne  for  an  article  about  him.  Mr.  Le  Gal- 
lienne's  name  was  an  appropriate  one,  he  had 
been  a  personal  friend  of  Kilmer's,  and  his  sym- 
pathies, the  editor  knew,  were  thoroughly  en- 
gaged. In  course  of  no  long  time  unsolicited 
articles  about  Kilmer  came  into  "The  Bookman" 
ofRce  by  the  score.  A  number  of  them  were  very 
good.  But  matters  like  this  are  almost  always 
arranged  at  once. 

§  Selling  MSS.  Before  Writing  Them, 

In  advance  of  some  notable  event  to  occur,  it 
is,  of  course,  the  general  practice  of  editors  to 
arrange  with  some  writer  to  "cover"  that  event. 
A  writer  is  selected  whose  style  is  in  conformity 

[35] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

with  the  character  of  the  magazine  in  which  the 
article  is  to  appear.  Any  one  of  the  innumerable 
unsolicited  articles  about  America's  "Unknown 
Soldier"  which  turned,  up  in  magazine  offices 
after  the  ceremony  at  Arlington  had  less  than  a 
small  chance  of  being  taken  anywhere. 

Frequently  writers  of  standing  go  to  an  editor 
with  whom  they  have  had  dealings  and  say: 
"Such  and  such  a  thing  is  going  to  come  about. 
I'd  like  to  do  this  for  you."  The  editor  may 
reply:  "No;  we're  fed  up  with  militarism. 
Don't  want  any  more  about  training  camps." 
Or  he  may  say:  "Fine ;  go  ahead.  About  thirty- 
five  hundred  words.  Copy  by  the  fifteenth,  sure. 
I  think  you'd  better  treat  this  more  from  a  serious 
than  from  a  hmnorous  angle.  Make  it  as  inform- 
ative as  possible." 

A  procedure  much  in  practice  is  this :  A  writer 
whose  work  is  generally  known  makes  a  list  of 
perhaps  half  a  dozen  ideas  for  articles  he  would 
like  to  write.  He  puts  down  a  brief  outline  of 
each  idea,  something  like  this: 

HINTS    FOR   SELLING    MANUSCRIPTS 

Ways  of  going  about  the  matter.  Literary  agents. 
Directly  by  mail.  Interview  with  editor.  Editorial 
routine.     Study  of  market.     Diiferent  types  of  maga- 

[36] 


APPROACHING  MODERN  EDITOR 

zines.  Editors  as  human  beings.  Rejection  slips,  and 
how  to  know  them.  Specific  reasons  for  rejection. 
Outstanding  faults  of  novice  writers. 

He  sends  this  list  to  an  editor,  usually  to  the 
editor  of  a  magazine  for  which  he  has  been  writ- 
ing. Though  he  may  send  it,  or  take  it,  to  the 
editor  of  some  magazine  that  he  simply  wants 
to  get  into. 

The  editor  probably  recognizes  at  once  certain 
articles  that  he  doesn't  want.  He  doesn't  want 
this,  say,  because  he  already  has  in  hand  the 
manuscript  of  another  article  dealing  with  very 
much  the  same  idea.  He  doesn't  want  that  for 
the  reason  that  he  feels  the  subject  has  been  done 
to  death.  He  doesn't  want  the  other  as  it  is  not 
in  accord  with  the  policj^  of  his  magazine ;  his  ap- 
peal, perhaps,  is  to  more  unsophisticated  readers 
than  this  article  would  reach.  Another  idea, 
maybe,  would  make  an  article  of  local  rather  than 
national  interest.  These  items  of  the  writer's  list 
he  checks  with  a  "No." 

But  the  editor,  we'll  say,  finds  on  this  list  a 
couple  of  suggestions  for  articles  which  he  would 
like  to  have.  Opposite  these  he  marks  "O.  K." 
That  is  a  definite  order.    And  the  writer  does  not 

[37] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

put  in  a  week  or  two,  or  maybe  more  time,  on 
work  which  may  avail  him  nothing. 

Is  it  feasible  for  an  unknown  or  little-known 
writer  to  pursue  this  method  with  editors?  Ex- 
tracts from  letters  giving  the  opinions  of  some 
editors  on  the  subject  follow.  These  quotations 
are  taken  from  an  enquiry  into  the  matter  made 
by  Frank  MacCarthy,  jDublished  in  the  July, 
1921,  number  of  "The  Writer's  Monthly": 

We  are  always  willing  to  receive  suggestions 
from  our  readers  in  connection  with  the  subjects 
of  articles  and  their  treatment  and  to  indicate 
whether  or  not  such  treatment,  as  outlined,  is 
likely  to  be  available  for  use  in  "The  Post." 
We  are  not  able  to  speak  with  more  certainty 
than  this  in  regard  to  manuscripts.  Except  in 
rare  instances  it  is  useless  to  query  us  in  regard 
to  short  stories,  so  much  depending  upon  the 
development  of  the  idea. — The  editor  of  ''The 
Saturday  Evening  Post/' 

My  personal,  though  not  official,  opinion  as 
the  outcome  of  my  experience  as  an  editor,  is  that 
there  is  usually,  under  present  conditions  in  the 
magazine  field,  no  advantage  to  be  gained  by  an 
unknown  or  little-known  author  by  asking  the 
editor  whether  he  would  care  to  see  a  certain  kind 
of  material.  ...  It  is  rare  that  an  unknown  or 
little-known  writer  can  attract  the  attention  of  an 
editor  by  any  preliminary  description  of  what  he 
[38] 


APPROACHING  MODERN  EDITOR 

intends  to  write.  Such  questions  put  to  an  editor 
usually  somehow  tend  to  prejudice  him  against 
the  author's  work,  and  it  is  conceivable  that  he 
might  turn  down  material  which,  if  he  were  con- 
fronted with  the  completed  stuff,  he  might  be 
interested  in.  I  know  that  this  is  unreasonable 
and  illogical,  but  it  is  a  pragmatic  fact  about 
editors,  and  it  is  not  altogether  their  fault. — 
V.  Jordan,  associate  editor  of  "Everybody's 
Magazi7i€" 

I  think  it  is  a  very  sensible  thing  to  question 
an  editor  as  to  the  suitability  of  a  certain  subject 
for  his  magazine.  It  saves  both  the  author's  and 
the  editor's  time.  ...  Of  course,  you  understand 
that  an  affirmative  answer  to  a  query  is  not  nec- 
essarily followed  by  acceptance  of  the  finished 
product.  Everything  depends  on  the  way  the 
subject  is  handled.  It  may  be  something  particu- 
larly suited  to  a  certain  magazine,  but  the  writer 
may  get  the  wrong  slant,  suppressing  the  points 
he  should  emphasize  and  vice  versa.  I  would, 
therefore,  urge  the  writer  when  he  gets  a  favor- 
able answer  to  his  query  to  closely  study  the 
make-up  of  the  magazine  he  is  writing  for. — 
John  M.  Siddal  of  "The  Aniencan  Magazine." 

§  Completed  MSS.  Interest  Editors  More 
Than  Queries  or  Synopses. 

Don't  pester  editors  by  writing  in  such  ques- 
tions as:  Do  you  use  poetry?  or.  Do  you  use 
certain  kinds  of  articles  ?  or.  Have  you  room  for  a 

[39] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

serial?  Please  go  to  a  newsstand,  or  a  library, 
and  find  out.  As  for  the  serial,  so  much  depends 
on  the  serial. 

Some  editors  suggest  that  in  the  case  of  a 
writer  whose  work  is  little  known  it  might  be 
well,  if  he  writes  to  ask  an  editor  to  consider  a 
suggestion  for  an  article,  for  him  to  accompany 
his  letter  with  an  article  already  written,  as  a 
specimen  of  his  style.  On  the  whole,  however,  it 
is  very  probably  much  the  wiser  way  for  a  little- 
known  writer  to  send  in  the  completed  stuff,  ex- 
cept perhaps  on  rare  occasions  when  he  feels 
pretty  sure  that  he  has  an  idea  of  considerable 
and  immediate  news  value.  Writing  in  telling 
editors  about  articles  he'd  like  to  write  is  so  easy 
that  he  is  hkely  to  wear  out  an  editor's  patience 
with  him,  and  never  get  a  show. 

Never  send  in  to  an  editor  a  synopsis  of  a  story. 
It  will  only  exasperate  him.  Nothing  is  more 
hopeless  than  for  a  little-known  writer  to  expect 
an  editor  to  form  any  conception  of  what  his  story 
will  be  from  a  synopsis  of  it. 

§  Study  Magazine  Individuality. 

A  word  should  be  said  about  how  Tiot  to  study 
the  magazines.    Don't  study  them  with  your  nose 

[4.0] 


APPROACHING  MODERN  EDITOR 

too  close  to  the  pages.  If  you  make  a  classified 
list  of  periodicals  you  get  some  such  group  of 
heading's  as:  Fashions;  Home  Building  and 
Furnishing;  Children's  Publications;  All  Fic- 
tion ;  Literary  Publications ;  Amusements,  Sports 
and  Travel;  News  Feature  Journals;  Humorous 
Publications ;  For  Women ;  For  Men ;  and  so  on. 
Of  course,  you  can  go  on  and  refine  such  a  gen- 
eral classification.  The  point  of  view  of  one  type 
of  "literary"  journal,  for  instance,  may  be  dis- 
cernible as  decidedly  more  aesthetic  than  that  of 
another  type.  A  manuscript  sent  to  the  "Broom" 
might  ring  the  bell,  that  sent  to  "The  Bookman" 
would  miss  fire.  And  the  other  way  about, — the 
field  of  one  magazine,  of  course,  very  frequently 
overlaps  the  field  of  another.  An  article  with  a 
literaiy  subject  might  be  quite  suitable  to  a 
humorous  publication. 

There  is  this  to  be  considered:  magazines, 
weekly  publications  usually,  devoted  mainly  or 
altogether  to  cm-rent  happenings,  to  news,  use 
very  little  that  comes  in  to  them  unsohcited; 
almost  all  of  their  contents  are  the  product  of  as- 
signments. Though  certainly  any  novel  and 
timely  article  that  might  crop  up  in  the  mail,  if  it 
were  well  done,  appropriate  to  the  charajter  of 

[41] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

the  magazine,  and  on  a  subject  not  already  cov- 
ered by  the  editor,  would  get  attentive  consid- 
eration. 

§  All-Star  Magazines  Cold  to 
Unsolicited  Contributions. 

Then  one  might  add  to  his  classified  list  a  little 
group  of  all-star  magazines.  There  are  two 
classes  of  writers  occupying  quite  opposite  posi- 
tions; unknown  writers  who  are  striving  tooth 
and  nail  to  get  their  work  published,  and  writers 
of  achieved  popularity  pursued  continually  by 
editors.  You  will  find  a  few^  magazines  made  up 
altogether  of  "headliners."  These  magazines 
have  little  or  no  interest  in  what  may  come  in  to 
them  from  obscure  writers.  They  "go  out  after" 
the  work  of  the  writers  they  want.  Asked  the 
other  day  about  what  proportion  of  the  material 
he  was  using  came  to  him  unsought,  the  editor  of 
one  of  these  magazines  replied,  "None  at  all." 

§  Everything  Does  Not  Depend  Upon  a  "Name.** 

The  idea  frequently  encountered  among  un- 
known writers,  however,  that  there  is  everything 
in  a  "name,"  is  a  fallacy.     The  editor  of  one  of 
the  best  of  our  monthly  magazines  told  not  long 
[42] 


APPROACHING  MODERN  EDITOR 

ago  that  but  a  short  time  before  he  had  in  one 
week  returned  articles  by  Galsworthy,  Bernard 
Shaw,  George  Moore,  and  other  highly  distin- 
guished writers.  He  had  used  instead  work  of 
freshness,  of  charm,  or  of  power  by  writers  with 
their  careers  nearly  all  before  them.  An  intense 
interest  in  new  writers  is  the  attitude  of  plenty 
of  magazine  editors.  "New  writers  are  the  life 
of  the  magazine  business,"  declared  an  editor  the 
other  day,  the  editor  of  one  of  the  most  widelj'- 
circulated  substantial  magazines  in  the  country. 
A  few  minutes  later,  in  another  office,  the  editor 
of  another  of  our  leading  magazines  said :  "New 
writers  are  the  hope  of  the  whole  situation." 

Which  way  the  wind  blows  in  the  several  mat- 
ters that  have  just  been  discussed,  is  what  is  to 
be  got  from  a  study  of  the  magazines  by  the  new 
writer.  He  most  certainly  should  not  sit  down 
and  try  to  imitate  slavishly  anj^  distinctive  tricks 
that  he  may  find.  The  editor  of  a  very  vivacious 
and  popular  magazine  recently  remarked  that  he 
was  sometimes  appalled  by  the  evidence  of  the 
harm  that  apparently  his  publication  had  done  to 
novice  writers.  Many,  it  seems,  in  their  earnest 
endeavor  to  write  something  that  will  be  his  kind 
of  thing,  grotesquely  parody  the  style  of  that 

[43] 


.    THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

periodical  and,  of  course,  so  squelch  any  innate 
gift  that  may  be  their  own. 

The  young  writer  should  study  his  rejection 
shps  closely,  and  take  to  heart  every  suggestion 
he  is  lucky  enough  to  receive  from  an  editor.  So 
anxious  are  editors  to  discover  and  cultivate 
talent  that,  when  they  receive  a  manuscript  of 
extraordinary  promise,  they  will  go  out  of  their 
way  to  encourage  the  author. 

In  such  cases  the  manuscript  will  not  be  re- 
turned with  the  usual :  "We  have  read  your  story 
with  keen  interest  and  regret  to  say  that,  al- 
though it  is  not  without  merit,  we  cannot  accept  it 
for  publication  at  the  present  time." 

But  it  will  be  sent  back  with  a  helpful  letter: 
"It  seems  to  us  that  you  really  have  a  feeling  for 
and  understanding  of  boys  of  the  boarding  school 
age  and  the  sort  of  life  they  actually  lead  in 
school  and  out  of  it,  but  we  do  not  consider  that 
your  story  contains  sufficiently  consistent,  well 
developed  plot  to  make  a  successful  juvenile. 
The  individual  episodes  are  often  well  presented, 
but  the  stoiy  as  a  whole  is  not  knit  together  with 
sufficient  closeness  to  hold  the  juvenile  public." 

Here  is  real  encouragement  and  valuable  in- 
formation.   Yet  many  a  young  author  is  bitterly 
[44] 


APPROACHING  MODERN  EDITOR 

disappointed  by  just  such  criticism,  and  immedi- 
ately runs  to  his  personal  friends  with  both  the 
letter  and  the  story.  "Do  you  think  this  criticism 
is  justified?"  he  asks.  And  his  friends,  desiring 
to  remain  friends,  and,  incidentally,  knowing 
very  little  if  anything  about  the  "juvenile  public" 
and  what  will  hold  it,  emphatically  reply:  "No, 
indeed!  The  editors  are  simply  trying  to  save 
their  faces.  They  don't  want  your  story,  because 
you  haven't  a  big  name  like  Ralph  Henry  Bar- 
bour, or  somethin',  and  they're  afraid  to  tell  you 
so.'*  Take  the  praise  of  relatives,  friends,  and 
others  not  in  the  wi'iting  business  with  a  handful 
of  salt. 

Nobody,  of  course,  can  give  you  a  skeleton  key 
that  will  open  editorial  doors.  All  that  can  be 
done  is  to  attempt  to  reflect  something  of  the 
atmosphere  and  the  talk  of  editorial  offices. 


[45] 


II 

APPROACHING  THE  MODERN  PUBLISHER 

IN  the  preceding  chapter  of  this  book  the  sub- 
ject dealt  with  was  the  situation  between  the 
beginner  writer  and  the  magazines.  The  article 
was  designed  to  give  information  concerning  the 
placing  by  the  young  author  of  manuscripts  of  a 
length  suitable  for  publication  in  periodicals: 
short  stories,  novelettes,  essays,  or  poems.  A 
number  of  things  remain  to  be  considered  about 
the  handling  of  manuscripts  of  book  length. 
And  some  of  the  suggestions  that  were  presented 
regarding  dealing  with  magazine  editors  would 
not  apply  at  all  in  the  matter  of  approaching 
book  publishers. 

So  few  people  outside  of  the  publishing  field, 
it  seems,  understand  in  the  least  the  problems  or 
the  machinery  of  book  publishing  that,  as  in  the 
preceding  chapter,  it  will  be  well  to  consider  much 
that  is  very  elementary.  Letters  like  this  come 
into  publishing  houses  every  day:  "I  would  like 
[46] 


APPROACHING  THE  PUBLISHER 

to  know  what  is  the  best  I  could  do  on  a  plainly 
bound  volume  without  gilt  adornments,  about  the 
size  of  the  ordinary  novel — or  a  shade  smaller — 
with  wide  margins  equally  divided  at  top  and  bot- 
tom of  pages,  and  printed  on  thick  enough  paper 
in  large  enough  type  to  pad  the  story  to  sufficient 
size." 

And  another:  "It  was  my  idea  to  send  copies 
of  it  to  newspapers  at  times  publishing  reviews 
of  books ;  hoping  in  that  way  to  attract  favorable 
criticism,  that  would  enable  me  to  secure  for  it 
attention  from  the  public,  then  willing  to  produce 
it  on  shares." 

§  Most  Books  Published  on  a  Royalty  Basis. 

The  way  in  which  most  books  are  published  is 
on  the  basis  of  a  royalty  paid  to  the  author  on 
each  copy  sold,  the  publisher  assuming  all  cost  of 
manufacture  and  marketing  of  the  volume,  and 
accepting  all  risk  in  the  enterprise.  It  is  the  cus- 
tom generally  for  royalties  to  be  paid  twice  a 
year.  Very  popular  authors  can  command  a 
greater  royalty  than  others.  A  higher  royalty  is 
paid  on  fiction  than  on  non-fiction.  A  very  usual 
royalty  is  ten  per  cent,  on  the  first  two  thousand 
copies  sold,  and  fifteen  per  cent,  thereafter.    On 

£47] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

some  types  of  book,  poetry  for  instance,  less  is 
frequently  paid.  Many  authors,  particularly 
"budding"  ones,  seem  to  labor  under  the  false 
belief  that  if  they  offer  their  book  free  of  charge 
a  publisher  will  accept  it  when  otherwise  he  would 
reject  it.  No  reputable  publishing  house  will 
publish  a  book  without  first  agreeing  to  pay  the 
author  something  for  his  work.  Dishonest  pub- 
lishers will  rarely  take  a  manuscript  unless  the 
author  pays  them  something  in  advance.  It  is, 
therefore,  of  no  avail  to  tell  a  publisher,  as  so 
many  do,  that  you  are  not  interested  in  the  finan- 
cial side  of  the  undertaking,  and  that  the  pub- 
lisher, if  he  will  only  publish  yom*  book,  may  keep 
for  himself  all  that  he  can  make  from  the  sale  of 
the  book. 

A  book  manuscript  submitted  to  a  publishing 
house  goes  through  very  much  the  same  sort  of 
editorial  routine  that  a  shorter  manuscript  does 
when  sent  to  a  magazine.  It  is  received,  title  and 
name  of  author  entered  in  a  record  book,  it  is 
given  a  number,  placed  in  a  safe  or  cabinet,  and 
in  its  turn  receives  a  reading.  A  card  or  form 
letter  acknowledging  its  receipt  usually  is  at  once 
sent  to  the  author.  Publishing  houses  do  not 
assume  responsibihty  for  the  safety  of  manu- 
[48] 


APPROACHING  THE  PUBLISHER 

scripts  in  their  possession.  In  some  cases  where  a 
manuscript  in  the  hands  of  a  publishing  house  has 
been  lost  or  destroyed  the  publishers  have  as  a 
matter  of  courtesy  paid  the  author  an  amount 
sufficient  to  cover  the  cost  of  retyping  it.  Though 
manuscripts  in  the  care  of  publishers  are  very 
rarely  lost  or  destroyed,  curious  accidents  do 
sometimes  happen  to  them.  There  was  an  in- 
stance where  a  manuscript  taken  home  by  a 
reader  over  night  was  chewed  up  by  a  dog.  An 
author  should  never  fail  to  retain  a  copy  of  his 
work. 

There  are  still  persons  here  and  there  ambitious 
to  become  writers  who  submit  manuscripts  in  long 
hand.  Such, a  manuscript  carries  a  very  heavy 
handicap  in  receiving  interested  consideration. 
When  the  material  submitted  is  printed  matter 
which  has  previously  appeared  in  newspapers 
and  magazines  it  is  well  to  have  it  neatly  pasted 
on  to  manuscript  paper,  and  not  rolled  into  a 
wad  with  little  or  no  head  or  tail  to  it. 

§  Submitting  Booh  Length  Manuscripts. 

In  submitting  book  length  manuscripts  it  is  a 
good  plan  for  the  author  to  send  a  letter  with  the 
manuscript,  stating  briefly  who  he  is  and  of  what 

[49] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

books  already  published,  if  any,  he  is  the  author. 
If  the  manuscript  deals  with,  say,  "child  science," 
and  the  author  is  a  woman  who  (though  she  may 
not  have  published  anything)  has  been  long  ac- 
tive in  such  work  and  a  successful  lecturer  on  the 
subject,  it  would  be  pertinent  for  her  to  tell  that, 
succinctly.  But  it  is  not  good  policy,  to  put  it 
so,  for  the  author  to  say  anything  with  flowers. 

A  synopsis  accompanying  the  manuscript  is 
sometimes  a  great  convenience  to  the  publishers' 
readers,  but  it  may  be  a  dangerous  thing,  too.  If 
it  is  not  skilfully  and  interestingly  written,  it  may 
prejudice  the  reader  at  the  very  start.  And  good 
synopses  of  book  length  manuscripts  are  very 
difficult  to  write. 

In  the  preceding  chapter  the  practice  was  dis- 
cussed of  professional  writers  sending  in  to  maga- 
zine editors  brief  outlines  or  synopses  of  articles 
which  they  proposed  to  write.  Some  magazine 
editors,  a  few,  it  was  reported,  felt  that  this  pro- 
cedure might  be  employed  now  and  then,  with 
advantage  to  both  author  and  editor,  by  writers 
not  of  established  reputation.  This  plan,  how- 
ever, in  the  case  of  a  new  writer  certainly  is  one 
of  the  most  hopeless  things  in  the  world  to  at- 
tempt with  a  book  publisher. 
[50] 


APPROACHING  THE  PUBLISHER 

People  continually  do  send  into  publishing 
houses  letters  designed  to  show  that  the  peculiar 
circumstances  of  their  lives  present  excellent  ma- 
terial for  books  they  would  like  to  write.  The 
writers  of  such  letters  ask  if  the  house  is  inter- 
ested in  the  volume  they  have  in  mind,  and  some 
of  them  apparently  expect  to  come  to  "terms"  at 
once.  The  author  of  one  of  these  letters  may 
have  had  a  remarkably  romantic  career,  been  born 
among  Indians,  married  a  princess  of  the  tribe,  or 
something  like  that,  but  no  literary  adviser  to  a 
publishing  house  can  form  any  idea  of  what  sort 
of  book  he  might  make  out  of  it.  And  a  woman 
who  has  led  one  of  the  most  ordinary  existences 
imaginable  may  any  day  send  into  an  editorial 
office  the  manuscript  of  one  of  the  most  success- 
ful books  of  the  day. 

§  Manuscripts  Read  by  Specialists. 

Several  thousand  unsolicited  manuscripts  of 
book  length  come  into  any  large  publishing  house 
in  the  course  of  a  year.  Manuscripts  of  books  of 
highly  specialized  character  are  usually,  after  a 
preliminary  examination  establishing  a  possibility 
of  their  value,  sent  to  "outside  readers"  who  are 
specialists  in  their  various  fields.     A  work  on 

[51] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

psychology  would  go  to  a  professional  phycholo- 
gist,  very  likely  to  several,  if  the  first  report  on 
the  book  seemed  to  the  editorial  department  to 
w^arrant  this.  That  a  highly  valuable  book  on 
such  a  subject  was  in  course  of  preparation, 
would,  however,  very  likely  have  been  known  to 
a  house  having  an  educational  list,  and  some 
negotiation  would  probably  have  preceded  the 
arrival  of  the  manuscript.  The  manuscript  of  a 
religious  book  would  probably  be  passed  on  by  a 
minister;  a  story  for  young  girls  might  go  to  a 
librarian  specializing  in  work  with  children.  And 
so  on. 

In  the  preceding  chapter  the  advice  of  numer- 
ous magazine  editors  was  presented  in  the  counsel 
io  novice  writers  to  study  the  different  character 
of  various  magazines.  What  is  one  publication's 
meat  is  another's  poison.  And  this  is  so,  too,  in 
a  very  considerable  degree  of  publishing  houses. 
A  very  good  idea  for  the  writer  attempting  to 
place  his  first  book  would  be  for  him  to  collect 
and  study  the  catalogs  of  different  publishers. 
A  bookseller  will  frequently  say,  upon  hearing 
merely  the  title  of  a  book  which  he  does  not 
readily  place  in  his  mind:  "That  sounds  like  a 
[52] 


APPROACHING  THE  PUBLISHER 

Doran  book,"  or  "a  Holt  book,"  or  "a  Doubleday 
book,"  as  the  case  may  be. 

§  Publishers*  Likes  and  Dislikes. 

Some  houses,  of  course,  publish  more  kinds  of 
books  than  other  houses.  But  a  thing  understood 
practically  not  at  all  outside  of  the  book  business 
is  that  a  publishing  house  which  is  very  successful 
with  a  list  of  books  which  it  has  made  its  own  kind 
might,  if  it  should  accept  such  a  volume,  fail  with 
a  book  of  a  type  which  it  had  been  unaccustomed 
to  handle.  A  remark  heard  every  once  in  a  while 
in  publishing  offices  is :  "Our  salesmen  wouldn't 
know  how  to  sell  that  book." 

The  journey  of  a  book  manuscript  after  it  has 
been  received  in  a  publishing  office  varies  with 
the  office.  Usually  it  first  goes  to  one  of  a  little 
staff  of  readers,  persons  who  either  do  nothing 
else  but  read  manuscript  or  who  combine  manu- 
script reading  with  writing  publicity  notes  and 
advertising  copy  about  books  already  published 
or  about  to  be  published  by  the  house.  Such 
persons  are  generally  college  bred  and  sometimes 
themselves  have  a  tendency  toward  writing  books 
or  articles  or  poetry.  It  is  not  unusual  in  a  pub- 
lishing house  for  one  of  the  traveling  salesmen 

[53] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

to  be  called  upon  every  once  in  a  while  to  give 
an  opinion  from  his  point  of  view  of  the  advis- 
ability of  accepting  a  manuscript.  Occasionally 
a  publisher's  traveling  man  takes  out  to  the  buyer 
for  a  large  book  store,  who  is  a  good  friend  of  his, 
a  manuscript  and  asks  for  his  judgment  upon  it. 
In  some  publishing  houses,  in  the  case  of  a  manu- 
script of  no  distinctive  literary  qualities,  the 
judgment  of  an  "average  mind,"  untainted  by 
editorial  sophistication,  is  sought;  and  the  odd 
moments  of  intelligent  yomig  women  secretaries 
and  stenographers  are  employed  in  reading 
manuscript. 

Doubtless  every  publishing  house  past  the  age 
of  infancy  has  its  awful  family  skeletons,  darkly 
hinted  at  now  and  then  as  terrible  warnings  to  its 
staff.  Some  of  the  most  popular  books  within 
living  memory  have  been  turned  down  by  very 
astute  publishers,  to  go  elsewhere  to  success ;  and 
some  of  the  most  gifted  authors  who  later  found 
high  distinction. 

§  How  Reports  of  Readers  Are  Considered. 

Still,  in  the  press  of  business,  one  (frequently 
brief)  report  from  a  reader  on  its  character  must 
needs    suffice    for    many    a    book    manuscript. 

[54] 


APPROACHING  THE  PUBLISHER 

Others  draw  maybe  as  many  as  half  a  dozen.  In 
some  large  houses  these  reports  are  passed  on  by 
one  man,  the  head  of  the  editorial  department,  or, 
if  the  house  has  a  magazine,  the  book  editor.  He 
may  question  the  first  reader's  report  on  a  manu- 
script, and  send  it  out  to  another  reader;  or  he 
may  decide  to  reject  the  manuscript  on  the 
strength  of  that  report.  On  the  showing  of  a 
number  of  reports  he  may  conclude  to  read  the 
manuscript  himself.  On  his  own  judgment  of 
the  manuscript  he  may  reject  it.  Or  he  may 
advise  the  head  of  the  house  that  the  book  be 
accepted. 

In  other  publishing  houses  manuscript  reports 
are  taken  up  for  final  decision  by  a  periodical 
gathering  of  various  members  of  the  firm,  a  cabi- 
net or  council  meeting.  In  one  house  this 
tribunal  is  jocosely  referred  to  by  its  members  as 
"the  Senate."  In  the  case  of  the  smaller  and 
newer  publishing  houses  the  head  of  the  house 
decides  the  matter,  and  is  likely  to  do  a  consider- 
able amount  of  his  own  manuscript  reading.  The 
heads  of  the  larger  houses,  of  course,  have  little 
time  for  looking  at  manuscripts,  though  now  and 
then  one  of  them  examines  something  which  he 
has  cause  to  believe  is  of  special  concern  to  him. 

[55] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

In  brief,  the  points  considered  by  a  first-rate 
publishing  house  in  the  decision  concerning  a 
manuscript  are  these :  the  suitabiHty  of  the  book 
to  the  Hst  being  prepared,  the  probabiHty  of  its 
profitable  pubHcation,  the  probability  of  its  mak- 
ing a  striking  success,  the  chance  of  its  sale  con- 
tinuing for  some  time,  whether  the  book  would 
detract  from  the  reputation  of  the  house,  or 
whether  it  would  be  an  asset  to  the  imprint  of  the 
house. 

§  Whi/  Certain  Manuscripts  Are  Accepted. 

A  book  of  verse,  say,  may  be  taken  mainly  be- 
cause the  list  is  short  on  verse.  A  book  of  essays, 
perhaps,  may  be  declined  mainly  for  the  reason 
that  several  volumes  of  essays  are  already  in  train 
for  early  publication.  A  book  of  solid  character, 
a  biography,  suppose,  promising  no  very  great 
immediate  sale  but  an  enduring  one,  is  frequently 
a  better  hteraiy  "property,"  in  the  publishing 
term,  than  a  novel  of  fairly  wide  popularity 
whose  day  is  quickly  over.  Very  reputable  pub- 
lishing houses  have  not  been  averse  to  accepting 
books  reasonably  well  assured  of  a  wide  sale  when 
they  have  quite  realized  that  such  books  were  of  a 
quality  below  the  standard  of  houses  of  their 
[56] 


APPROACHING  THE  PUBLISHER 

character.  Several  popular  successes  enable  a 
publisher  to  carry  on  his  list  books  much  more 
creditable  to  his  name  but  of  limited  sale.  Now 
and  again,  publishers  of  very  business-like  mind 
have  accepted  books  which  they  felt  proud  to  pub- 
lish but  which  they  knew  would  hardly  pay  for 
themselves.  There  have  been  occasions  when  a 
new  author  has  submitted  two  manuscripts  at  the 
same  time,  one  of  which  the  publisher  saw  possi- 
bilities in,  without  having  any  faith  in  the  other 
nor  any  regard  for  it;  and  when  the  pubhsher 
has  agreed  to  take  both  books  to  secure  the  one 
and  to  gain  a  hold  on  the  author's  future  work. 
Instances  are  not  rare,  of  course,  where  the  suc- 
cess of  one  book  has  led  a  publisher  to  accept 
earlier  and  inferior  work  of  the  author.  Writers 
rapidly  coming  forward  sometimes  are  signed  up 
by  a  publisher  for  several  books  ahead  sight  un- 
seen. And  cases  are  not  infrequent  where  a  pub- 
lisher accepts  one  book  and  turns  down  the 
author's  next.  The  ins  and  outs  of  publishing  are 
a  somewhat  complicated  business. 

§  Publishers'  Rejection  Slips   Often  Misleading. 

Book  publishing  houses  have  an  even  greater 
variety  of  rejection  slips  and  form  letters  than 

[57] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

have  the  magazine  editors,  and  inexperienced 
writers  are  likely  to  find  them  also  more  mislead- 
ing. A  form  letter  may  be  printed,  or  either 
multigraphed  or  typewritten.  A  printed  rejec- 
tion slip  is  not  the  unkindest  sort  of  cut,  as  so 
many  who  receive  them  seem  to  feel.  It  gener- 
ally says  very  much  the  same  thing  as  a  form 
letter  either  multigraphed  or  typewritten.  These 
are  frequently  misinterpreted  by  the  receivers  as 
being  personal  letters.  And  their  exceedingly 
courteous  wording  sometimes  causes  elation. 
They  mean  nothing  at  all.  The  sterotyped 
phrase  "read  with  interest"  is  the  same  sort  of 
formality  as  "Very  truly  yours." 

Vogues  pass.  Established  writers  die.  It  is  to 
the  interest  of  a  publishing  house,  very  much  to 
the  interest  of  a  publishing  house,  to  cultivate 
the  good  will  of  the  potential  authors  of  conse- 
quence of  tomorrow.  A  special  letter,  not  quite 
a  form  letter,  usually  is  prepared  in  rejecting  a 
manuscript  which  in  the  editor's  judgment  shows 
promise  of  work  of  possibility  for  the  house.  In 
the  case  of  a  manuscript  of  decidedly  exceptional 
interest  to  the  editor,  he  writes  a  genuinely 
friendly  letter  to  the  author,  generally  stating 
just  why  the  work  was  dechned. 
[58] 


APPROACHING  THE  PUBLISHER 

Some  book  editors  are  much  more  encouraging 
rejecters  than  others.  They  put  into  their  letters 
phrases  of  approval  quoted  from  the  readers'  re- 
ports ;  and  sometimes  explain  to  the  author  just 
what  they  think  ought  to  be  done  to  make  the 
rejected  manuscript  acceptable — somewhere. 

Sometimes  the  reasons  given  for  the  declining 
of  a  manuscript  are  rather  startling  to  the  re- 
jected author.  A  very  good  house  one  time  re- 
ceived a  manuscript  dealing  with  society  Hfe  in 
England.  The  editor  sent  the  manuscript  to  a 
reader.  The  reader  in  her  report  praised  highly 
the  stjde,  the  plot,  and  other  qualities,  but  made 
the  statement  that  the  author's  accounts  of  societj'' 
hfe  in  London  were  inaccurate.  Without  further 
examination,  the  editor  returned  the  manuscript 
to  the  author  with  a  fatherly  note  of  advice,  urg- 
ing him  to  write  only  about  the  things  with  which 
he  was  familiar  and  explaining  that  the  returned 
novel  showed  that  the  author  was  quite  ignorant 
of  English  social  life.  As  a  fact,  the  author  hap- 
pened to  be  an  English  gentleman,  who  had  spent 
a  large  part  of  his  life  in  London  society,  and 
who  had  lived  less  than  a  year  in  the  United 
States.      So   you   can't   always   sometimes   tell 

[591 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

about  editorial  advice.  Otherwise  stated,  acci- 
dents will  happen  in  the  best  regulated  families. 
Manuscripts  are  repeatedly  accepted  with  pro- 
visions. In  the  case  of  one  of  the  most  sensa- 
tional of  recent  novels  the  author  was  required 
to  delete  certain  portions  of  the  manuscript,  and 
to  modify  others.  A  highly  successful  mystery 
story  of  a  couple  of  years  ago  was  several  times 
rearranged  by  the  young  author  before  it  was 
completely  satisfactory  to  the  publishers.  In  its 
pubhshed  form  material  which  at  first  had  stood 
well  along  in  the  story  appeared  as  the  opening 
chapter.  And  sometimes  manuscripts  are  taken 
with  the  understanding  that  they  are  to  be  very 
rigorously  edited  in  the  publishing  house. 

§  Some  Reasons    Why  Manuscripts  Are  Rejected. 

True  enough.  One  of  the  most  prevalent 
errors  going,  however,  among  amateur  writers,  is 
the  highly  fallacious  notion  that  faulty  "techni- 
calities" in  a  manuscript  don't  matter  much  if 
only  you  have  good  "ideas,"  "Oh,  I  don't  think 
there's  much  in  it,  you  know,  if  you  only  get  a 
good  idea,"  remarked  one  of  the  speakers 
in  McFee's  excellent  satiric  sketch  "The  Idea." 
It  is  remarkable  the  number  of  people  aspiring 
[60] 


APPROACHING  THE  PUBLISHER 

to  write  who  are  firm  in  the  belief  that  they 
have  splendid  ideas  but  who  are  in  a  similar 
case  with  the  man  who  sent  along  with  his 
manuscript  a  letter  telling  the  publishers  to  do  to 
it  whatever  might  be  required  in  the  way  of  gram- 
mar and  punctuation,  as  he  had  "never  been 
strong  in  clerical  traits."  In  discussing  rejected 
manuscripts,  an  editor  observed  the  other  day 
that  certain  defects  in  the  work  of  young  writers 
repeated  themselves  so  often  that  it  was  quite 
possible  to  name  some  of  the  general  outstanding 
faults.  At  the  top  of  his  list  he  put:  "lack  of 
training,"  "inability  to  give  effective  expression 
to  thoughts  and  observations."  Another  editor, 
asked  for  his  view  of  the  trouble  with  most  of  the 
manuscripts  that  came  to  him,  replied:  "Defec- 
tive craftsmanship." 

§  Many  Books  Sought  by  Publishers. 

Books  are  acquired  by  publishers  in  various 
ways.  A  young  man  achieves  a  name  as  a  clever 
journalist  and  a  popular  following.  First  thing 
you  know,  a  publisher  seeks  a  book  from  him.  A 
rumor  arises  that  a  statesman  retired  but  the  day 
before  from  the  thick  of  things  is  writing  an  in- 
side story  of  recent  events.     Several  alert  pub- 

[61] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

lishers  look  into  this  matter.  A  notable  figure 
passes  away.  A  distinguished  writer  associated 
with  him  throughout  his  career  accepts  a  proposal 
to  write  liis  biography.  An  English  novehst 
writes  his  American  publisher  that  there  is  a 
young  chap  in  London  worth  watching.  A  man 
who  has  made  a  considerable  success  with  a  book 
wants  on  his  second  book  a  greater  advance 
against  royalties  than  his  first  publishers  are  will- 
ing to  pay;  and  is  bid  in  elsewhere.  And  so  on 
and  so  on.  Not  a  large  proportion  of  the  books 
published  are  borri  of  manuscripts  which  un- 
heralded and  unsolicited  drift  into  editorial 
offices.  But  some  of  the  most  successful  of  books 
have  turned  up  in  that  way. 

When  a  book  is  accepted,  or  arranged  for,  a 
contract  is  drawn  between  the  publishers  and  the 
author.  The  subject  of  contracts  and  copyrights 
and  seeing  a  book  through  the  press  will  be  taken 
up  later.  A  book  is  accepted,  say,  sometime 
early  in  the  spring.  It  is  "set,"  put  into  type, 
galleys  are  read  by  the  advertising  department, 
and  a  description  of  the  book  prepared  for  the 
fall  catalog  of  the  house.  A  jacket  for  the  book 
is  designed.  A  number  of  "dummies"  are  made. 
A  dummy  of  a  book  consists  of  a  specimen  cover 
[62] 


APPROACHING  THE  PUBLISHER 

of  the  volume  enclosing  a  few  of  the  opening 
pages  printed  as  they  will  be  in  the  finished 
volume,  the  rest  of  the  pages  blank  paper. 

§  Selling  the  Published  Book, 

Sometime  during  the  smnmer  the  publisher's 
salesmen  take  the  road.  One  covers  the  Pacific 
coast,  another  the  middle  west  and  the  south,  still 
another  the  smaller  towns  of  New  England — it  is 
one  of  the  larger  publishing  houses  we  are  think- 
ing of.  Catalogs,  dummies,  and  jackets  of  the 
forthcoming  books  are  shown  to  the  buyers  of  the 
book  stores,  and  advance  orders  procured. 
Shortly  before  publication  date  another  salesman 
rounds  up  New  York  and  the  other  big  cities  of 
the  East.  All  these  salesmen  have  a  pretty  fair 
knowledge  of  the  book,  and  are  equipped  with 
its  "talking  points." 

Shortly  before  the  date  of  publication  paid 
advertising  concerning  the  book  is  placed  with 
magazines  and  newspapers.  And  the  pubhcity 
department  begins  to  send  out  to  the  book  pages 
of  the  newspapers  all  over  the  country  "liter- 
ary notes"  concerning  the  book  and  its  author. 
On  the  date  of  publication  somewhere  probably 
between  seventy-five  and  a  hundred  copies  of  the 

[63] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

book  are  distributed  free.  Most  of  these  are 
"review  copies"  sent  to  literary  editors.  The 
others  are  given  to  persons  of  influence  in  the 
book  world  who  may  be  inclined  to  aid  the  book, 
by  saying  something  about  it  which  could  be 
effectively  used  in  advertising,  or  by  giving  it 
"word  of  mouth  advertising"  themselves. 

That  is  a  brief  sketch  of  the  manner  in  which 
a  book  is  pubhshed  today.  Publish,  the  diction- 
ary says,  means:  to  make  known  publicly,  to 
issue,  to  put  in  circulation,  to  disseminate.  And 
this  outline  we  have  just  followed  through  of  the 
career  of  a  manuscript  from  the  time  it  arrives  in 
a  publishing  office  until  the  time  when  it  appears 
as  a  book  on  the  market  may  give  some  little 
notion  of  the  amount  of  capital  that  is  tied  up 
every  time  a  manuscript  is  accepted — though 
nothing  has  been  said  of  printers,  proof  readers, 
presses,  binderies,  stock  rooms,  accounting  de- 
partments, and  so  on. 

§  Privately  Puhlished  Books  Unprofitable. 

A  word  is  to  be  said  about  books  that  are  not 
brought  out  in  the  ordinary  way,  on  a  royalty 
basis,  books  privately  printed,  and  books  the  pub- 
lication of  which  is  partly  paid  for  by  the  authors. 
[64] 


APPROACHING  THE  PUBLISHER 

Books  that  are  privately  printed,  of  course,  are 
not  published  at  all,  in  the  dictionary  sense,  be- 
cause they  have  not  behind  them  the  elaborate 
machinery  of  an  active  publishing  house.  To 
have  a  book  privately  printed  is  generally  more 
than  anything  else  a  practice  calculated  to  minis- 
ter to  the  vanity  of  the  author ;  though  now  and 
then  one  comes  across  a  privately  printed  volume 
of  some  value  which  perhaps  could  not  have  been 
brought  out  in  any  other  way. 

There  remain  to  be  considered  what  are  known 
in  the  book  trade  as  "author's  books,"  volumes 
issued  partly  at  the  expense  of  their  authors. 
Many  people  have  an  idea  that  this  is  not  an 
honorable  practice.  Of  course,  there  are  a  num- 
ber of  firms  which  make  a  business  solely  of  en- 
couraging the  ignorant  to  let  them  "publish" 
their  books.  These  firms  ought  to  be  run  out  of 
business.  On  the  other  hand,  interesting  and 
valuable  books  have  been  published  at  the  ex- 
pense of  their  authors  simply  because  the  sale 
of  these  books  was  obviously  too  Hmited  to  per- 
mit of  their  being  published  otherwise.  It  is 
said  that  one  of  the  most  popular  authors  in 
America  today  financed  his  first  book. 

There  may  be  exceptional  cases,  but  far  and 

[65] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

away  in  the  main  the  author  in  such  a  transaction 
is  without  further  satisfaction  than  that  of  seeing 
his  book  in  print.  In  "The  Writer's  Monthly" 
for  July,  1921,  was  presented  a  mass  of  testi- 
mony which,  with  one  exception,  unanimously 
pointed  to  the  conclusion  that  a  transaction  of 
this  sort  was  in  every  way  unprofitable  to  the 
publishee. 

In  conclusion,  a  word  of  emphasis  on  the  value 
of  the  imprint  of  an  established  publishing  house 
upon  a  book.  By  having  an  established  and 
well-known  house  put  out  his  book  the  author 
assures  himself  of  some  publicity,  of  a  fair  dis- 
tribution of  the  book,  and  a  certain  amount  of 
prestige. 


[66] 


Ill 

THE   FIELD    OF   THE    LITERARY    AGENT 

HE  nearly  scared  her  to  death,  the  young 
woman  secretary  who  arose  as  he  entered 
to  receive  him.  He  was  such  a  spectacle  as  she 
had  never  before  seen  close  up,  and  never  in  the 
respectable  surroundings  of  a  business  office.  In 
effect  what  is  commonly  described  as  an  "old 
bum."  His  toes  were  sticking  out.  He  hadn't 
shaved  for  perhaps  a  week.  The  dilapidated 
garment  which  he  would  have  called  his  coat  was 
several  sizes  too  large  for  him.  He  informed  the 
young  woman  that  he  had  a  manuscript  which 
he  had  called  to  discuss.  It  was  the  office  of  a 
"literary  agent." 

The  gentleman  dealing  in  literature  asked  him 
the  nature  of  his  manuscript.  He  replied  that 
it  was  "about  feet."  "About  feet!"  "Yes."  He 
had  never  shown  it  before,  he  said;  but  he  had 
been  working  at  it  for  more  than  fifteen  j'^ears. 
He  tugged  at  one  of  the  side  pockets  of  his  great 

[67] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

coat,  and  produced  a  huge  wad  of  ancient, 
ragged,  and  grimy  paper.  This  proved  to  be  the 
most  extraordinary  work  of  literary  intention 
this  hterary  agent  had  ever  seen.  The  singular 
author  must  have  spent  something  like  a  lifetime 
at  it.  He  had  covered  most  exhaustively  the 
subject  of  feet.  He  had  ransacked  Shakespeare, 
army  orders,  a  bewildering  variety  of  novels,  ap- 
parently endless  newspapers.  He  must  have 
spent  more  hours  in  a  library  than  ever  did  Leslie 
Stephen.  And  in  his  consuming  passion  for  the 
fascinating  subject  of  feet  he  had  been  more  than 
utterly  ruthless  with  a  penknife.  His  volumi- 
nous manuscript  was  largely  a  vast  array  of  clip- 
pings pasted  up. 

He  wanted  to  know,  this  grotesque  apparition, 
what  the  cost  would  be  of  typing  his  manuscript. 
About  fifteen  dollars  was  suggested  as  a  reason- 
able sum  for  the  work.  Too  much,  he  said;  the 
manuscript  would  have  to  go  back  to  his  trunk, 
where  it  had  been  for  five  years.  Well,  what  did 
he  owe  for  the  trouble  he  had  given?  He  was 
told  not  anything.  Oh,  yes!  he  said;  he  always 
paid  as  he  went.  He  put  his  hand  deep  down 
into  his  trouser  pocket  and  brought  forth  a  cor- 
pulent roll  of  bills,  at  the  same  time  casting  an 
[68] 


FIELD  OF  THE  LITERARY  AGENT 

eye  at  the  clock.  He  had  taken  up  probably 
twenty  minutes  of  time,  he  said,  and  he  wanted 
to  pay  for  it — people  could  not  be  in  business  for 
nothing.  If  nothing  could  be  paid,  then  have 
some  cigars.  He  took  from  that  capacious  man- 
tle a  large  handful  of  cigars,  laid  them  on  the 
table,  and  made  his  adieu.  There  were  all  kinds 
of  cigars  you  can  think  of. 

§  All  Kinds  of  Authors  Consult  Agents. 

The  writing  "bug"  is,  indeed,  a  curious  thing. 
The  highly  attractive  and  picturesque  character 
who  has  just  been  depicted  was  obviously  of  the 
purest  type  of  disinterested  student.  A  much 
more  frequent  phenomenon  is  the  simple  soul 
with  thoroughly  utilitarian  motive.  There 
are  apparently  multitudes  of  those  affecting 
beings  who  innocently  consider  that  to  write  is 
to  have  "a  fortune  in  your  fingers."  The  other 
day  a  "literary  adviser"  to  a  prominent  publish- 
ing house  received  in  his  morning  batch  of  mail 
this  letter: 

I  found  your  name  in  the  Curier  Journal 
of  Louisville,  Ky.,  and  so  I  thought  I  would 
write  you  and  see  what  you  think  of  the 
proppotitian  I  have  to  offer.     I  believe  I  can 

[69] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

walk  across  the  United  States  on  my  hands  and 
feet  in  one  year  starting  from  the  State  of  N.  C. 
to  Sanfrancisco,  Calif,  and  never  get  up  only  for 
sleep  at  night — if  you  think  there's  iny  thing  to  it 
just  give  me  a  hearing  it  can  be  done  and  I  am 
fool  enough  to  try  it  altho  its  a  feat  that  will  be 
well  won  if  you  are  not  interested  give  me  the 
address  of  some  magazine  that  you  think  would 
be.  I  was  in  the  Army  seven  or  eight  years  and 
I  know  what  hard  ships  are  I'l  make  the  trip  on 
my  hands  (and  feet)  (all  fores)  for  so  much  and 
my  expenses  which  will  be  small  During  that 
time. 

So  thanking  you  Gentlemen  for  your  trouble 
I  remain  Your  Respectfully 

This  letter  was  written  from  a  small  town  in 
North  Carohna.  The  "proppotitian"  set  forth 
presumably  was  that  the  house  addressed  should 
advance  the  amount  that  would  be  required  for 
expenses  by  this  gentleman  during  his  expedition 
on  all  "fores"  from  N.  C.  to  Calif.,  together  with 
an  additional  "so  much"  in  cash  payment,  and  in 
return  have  the  privilege  of  reaping  the  harvest 
from  the  publication  of  his  account  of  the  pic- 
turesque adventure.  Though  he  does  not  men- 
tion that  he  is  a  writer,  and  possibly  he  assumed 
that  the  publishers  would  be  glad  to  send  along  a 
man  equipped  with  the  faculty  necessary  for  cov- 
[70] 


FIELD  OF  THE  LITERARY  AGENT 

ering  that  minor  part  of  the  enterprise.  His  own 
highly  colorful  style,  however,  to  judge  from  the 
sample  submitted,  one  might  regard  as  a  pecu- 
liarly happy  style  for  such  a  narrative.  But  this 
house  was  a  rather  conservative  one,  and  so  the 
novel  idea  had  no  business  interest  for  the 
firm. 

Written  in  pencil  on  paper  carrying  the  letter- 
head of  the  American  Red  Cross,  another  letter: 

From  Prv.  Peter  M.  Johnson, 

A  Natural  Poet, 
Just  back  from  France. 

Sir,  As  a  "natural  Poet"  I  has  Wrote  thousands 
of  Poems.     War  and  reconstruction-ones. 
Sir,  I  am  Willing  to  enter  and  agrement  With 
You  to  that  end. 

Sincerely.  Yours 

This  letter  was  received,  some  time  ago,  by 
the  editor  of  an  American  magazine  of  literary 
character.  The  "end"  sought  to  be  arrived  at  by 
Prv.  Johnson  is  not  definitely  presented,  but  the 
implication  is  fairly  clear  that  he  had  expecta- 
tions that  the  magazine  would  proceed  to  sign 
up  with  him  as  a  star  contributor. 

[71] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

§  Demand  for  Vocabularies  and 
"Whipping  into  Shape.'" 

One  of  the  curious  ideas  firmly  rooted  in  the 
minds  of  a  large  class  of  persons  strongly  tempted 
to  "write"  is  that  they  have  the  fundamental 
qualities  for  the  purpose  but  lack  the  superficial 
accomplishment  needful  for  taking  their  material 
and  "whipping  it  into  shape."  The  following 
communication  to  a  literary  agent  is  a  typical 
presentation  of  this  fanciful  conception  of  the 
affair  of  writing:  "Will  you  kindly  pass  judge- 
ment on  the  enclosed  and  put  it  up  in  the  proper 
shape  for  sale.  I  have  a  good  many  ideas  but 
have  neither  the  time  to  put  stories  into  shape  or 
the  vocabulary  to  make  them  presentable." 

Ho,  that  handsome  word  vocabulary!  It 
always  means  something  knowing,  all  right,  if 
you  don't  know  just  what.  There  was  once  a 
man  who  owned  a  trade  journal.  He  would  oc- 
casionally place  upon  the  editor's  desk  a  number 
of  little  "editorials"  (as  he  called  them)  which 
he  had  "written  out."  "Just  run  your  vocabu- 
lary over  these  for  the  paper,"  he  would  say. 
Like  a  lawn  mower,  perhaps.  To  smarten  up  a 
bit  the  external  look  of  things. 
[72] 


FIELD  OF  THE  LITERARY  AGENT 

§  Changing  Story  into  Photoplay. 

Another  curious  thing.  A  great  many  people 
untutored  in  the  elementary  principles  of  crea- 
tive production  seem  to  have  a  pleasant  notion 
that  if  you  miss  your  aim  in  one  form  of  en- 
deavor all  you  have  to  do  is  to  take  another  chance 
with  your  product  at  a  different  objective.  Here 
are  two  letters  written  to  a  literary  agent  which 
well  illustrate  this  simplicity  of  thought.  One 
letter  refers  to  the  manuscript  which  it  accom- 
panied thus:  "If  it  will  not  measure  up  to  the 
technical  demands  of  a  short  story  then  perhaps 
it  may  be  used  as  a  motion  play  production." 

An  esoteric  thing  like  the  "technical  demands" 
of  the  performance  to  wliich  he  has  applied  him- 
self is  apparently  a  little  matter  wliich  does  not 
concern  this  writer.  Indeed,  technique  is  a  word 
which  you  may  often  hear  pronounced  by  those 
innocent  of  a  knowledge  of  art  with  somewhat 
the  same  inflection  employed  by  "practical"  men 
when  they  say  "theoretical."  The  other  letter  is 
without  arrogance;  it  runs  so:  "find  enclosed  a 
MS.  Please  let  me  know  what  you  think  of  it. 
If  not  fit  for  a  Photoplay  i  would  like  for  you  to 
transfer  it  to  a  short  story  and  want  you  to  write 

[T3] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

it  over  as  if  you  yourself  were  going  to  submit  it, 
i  am  just  a  new  beginner  and  if  you  think  that  i 
could  ever  write  i  would  take  training,  i  have 
several  other  MS.  trusting  that  you  will  take 
a  consious  interest." 

One  aspiring  author  sends  along  a  worldly 
word  of  suggestion  to  the  literary  agent.  Con- 
cerning his  manuscript  he  advises  tliis:  "If  the 
woman's  magazines  do  not  care  for  it,  I  should 
cut  out  the  profanity  and  try  it  on  the  religious 
periodicals."  A  lady  who  has  written  what  at 
first  she  describes  as  a  "fairy  drama"  writes  that 
"when  you  have  read  the  play  with  a  view  to  the 
composition  of  the  music  for  it  I  think  you  will 
find  it  is  what  might  be  called  a  slightly  heavy 
light  opera."  She  had  been  working  hard  to 
get  it  done,  "along  with  another  rather  heavy 
piece  of  work  I  have  undertaken  in  the  last  two 
months,  which  is  a  90,000  word  novel."  And  "at 
present"  she  is  engaged  on  "an  historical  drama," 
and  also  a  "medieval  drama."  She  concludes: 
"That  is  all  the  drama  I  have  attempted  to  write. 
I  did  not  begin  to  try  to  write  anything  until  the 
First  of  Feb.  this  year  so  my  experience  is  not 
very  broad  yet."  A  very  conscientious  author 
who  seeks  expert  advice  in  a  minor  point  writes : 
[74] 


FIELD  OF  THE  LITERARY  AGENT 

"I  am  enclosing  herewith  a  short  story  of  about 
1800  words,  entitled  'A  Scream.'  Kindly  notice 
on  page  5,  in  the  last  line,  whether  I  have  spelt 
'mmnble  peg'  (the  game  boys  play  with  a  knife) 
correctly,  and  if  not  please  correct.  Thanking 
you." 

A  person  of  commendably  cautious  disposi- 
tion who  is  not  going  to  appear  over-eager  in  the 
eyes  of  a  strange  bird  such  as  a  hterary  agent 
says:  "I  saw  an  ad  in  a  magazine  about  the 
marketing  of  short  stories,  or  something  to  that 
effect.  This  is  of  mild  interest  to  me,  so  would 
like  more  detailed  information." 

§  Functions  of  a  Literary  Agent. 

A  considerable  body  of  persons  in  their  early 
seekings  to  place  manuscripts  have  evidently  hit 
upon  the  wild  notion  that  the  hterary  agent 
"stands  in,"  so  to  say,  with  all  magazine  editors 
— ^that  all  they  have  to  do  is  to  get  into  his  good 
graces,  and  that  then  he  will,  in  the  political 
manner,  "fix"  things.  The  literary  agent,  of 
course,  has  the  drop,  so  to  say,  on  the  novice 
author  only  in  this :  that  he  has  made  it  his  busi- 
ness to  know  which  magazine,  or  publishing 
house,  is  the  best  bet  for  this  or  for  that.     The 

[75] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

literary  agent  is  of  service  to  the  author  who  him- 
self knows  something  of  the  ropes  in  that  he 
relieves  the  author  of  the  bother  of  marketing  his 
wares,  and  frees  him  for  his  own  business — writ- 
ing. The  literary  agent  may  save  a  very  great 
deal  of  time  for  an  author  residing  a  far  distance 
from  the  pubHshing  centre.  So  distinguished  an 
author  as  Max  Beerbohm,  for  instance,  residing 
much  of  the  time  in  Italy,  utilizes  the  services  of 
a  hterary  agent  to  negotiate  the  placing  of  his 
work  in  New  York.  Also,  if  you  conceive  of 
yourself  as  a  member  of  the  aristocracy  of  intel- 
lect, you  may  regard  it  as  more  compatible  with 
your  artistic  dignity  to  leave  bargaining  over  the 
things  of  your  mind  to  bargaining  men.  Or,  on 
the  other  hand,  if  you  fancy  yourself  as  a  pretty 
shrewd  person  of  business,  and  have  not  made  a 
business  of  peddling  manuscripts  for  years,  a 
literary  agent  may  interpret  to  you  many  points 
outside  the  range  of  your  experience.  But — it 
is  of  prime  importance  that  you  (if  you  are  in 
the  way  of  requiring  one)  select  a  literary  agent 
with  the  same  particular  care  that  you  would 
select,  say,  a  lawyer.  There  are  lawyers  and 
lawyers,  you  know. 
[76] 


FIELD  OF  THE  LITERARY  AGENT 

§  Criticising  and  Editing  Manuscripts. 

It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  chapter  to  promote 
the  business  of  literary  agents;  but  simply  to 
present  some  of  their  experiences  and  to  state 
their  functions,  which  seem  to  be  somewhat  popu- 
larly misunderstood.  Some  literary  agents  make 
it  a  part  of  their  business  to  criticize  and  revise 
manuscripts  for  a  small  fee.  That  it  is  not  the 
business  of  pubhshing  houses  to  give  a  detailed, 
or  even  a  general  criticism  of  manuscripts  sub- 
mitted, is  certainly  a  matter  very  far  from  being 
generally  understood.  It  is  the  exception  when 
a  manuscript  from  an  unknown  author  comes 
into  a  publishing  house  unaccompanied  by  a 
letter  reading  something  like  this:  "I  should  be 
deeply  indebted  to  you  if  you  would  write  me 
in  the  frankest  spirit  what  you  think  of  the  book ; 
whether  you  think  it  has  any  merit  as  a  novel, 
whether  it  might  be  edited  so  that  it  might  be 
salable,  whether  there  is  merit  in  the  conception, 
whether  there  is  too  much  or  too  little  dialogue. 
And  you  may  be  as  harsh  as  you  like  without 
fear  of  wounding  an  aspiring  author." 

There  is  no  evidence  that  there  exists  a  pub- 
lishing house  with  a  relish  for  wounding  any- 

[77] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

body;  but  very  often  a  letter  of  criticism  from 
a  publisher  written  in  the  frankest  spirit  to  an 
aspiring  author  is  likely  to  bring  this  sort  of 
reply:  "The  comment  has  been  made  that  my 
book  is  not  a  money-maker.  I  think  that  is  a 
mistake.  It  does  not  fill  out  the  familiar  lines  of 
a  mushy  best-selling  romance.  But  I  believe  it 
would  have  a  considerable  sale  if  properly  pushed. 
It  took  me  five  years  merely  to  put  it  on  paper." 
And  in  the  cases  where  a  manuscript  is  re- 
turned with  merely  a  formal  note  poHtely  stating 
the  decisive  fact  that  the  publisher  cannot  see 
his  way  to  undertaking  its  publication,  he  is  apt 
to  receive  an  indignant  retort  charging  that  there 
was  "not  a  word  of  criticism"  in  his  communica- 
tion and  declaring  that  the  author  "had  a  right  to 
expect  more  than  that." 

§  Why  Publishers  Do  Not  Criticise  Manuscripts. 

As  to  why  a  pubHsher  frequently  does  not  care 
to  give  a  detailed  criticism  of  an  unsoHcited  manu- 
script, there  may  be  a  number  of  reasons,  which 
seem  to  be  very  little  comprehended  generally. 
It  may  be  the  policy  of  his  house  not  to  do  this. 
For  one  thing,  a  publisher's  attitude  toward  a 
manuscript  cannot  be  that  of  a  disinterested  pro- 
[78] 


FIELD  OF  THE  LITERARY  AGENT 

fessor  of  literature;  it  relates  to  the  business  of 
his  house,  to  the  matter  of  the  shaping  of  his  list, 
to  the  situation  with  hun  at  the  moment  as  to  the 
things  he  happens  to  stand  in  need  of  or  not  stand 
in  need  of,  and  to  divers  other  considerations 
which  are  not  purely  pertinent  to  the  character 
of  the  manuscript;  nor  are  they  the  affairs  of 
the  author.  Also  such  criticism  might  very  likely 
more  confuse  an  author  than  help  him.  For  the 
reason  that  what  one  house  would  tell  him  might 
very  likely  be  quite  different  from  what  another 
house  would  tell  him.  In  which  case  the  per- 
plexed author  might  very  naturally  conclude  that 
both  houses  were  either  some  kind  of  liars  or 
fools.  And,  further,  a  pubhsher  cannot  afford 
to  employ  an  academic  staff  whose  duties  would 
be  to  give  its  time  to  the  constructive  criticism  of 
bales  of  rejected  manuscript.  All  this  is  not  to 
say  that  excellent  criticism  of  this  nature  is  not 
infrequently  given  gratuitously  by  the  editors  of 
publishing  houses  to  unknown  authors  of  submit- 
ted manuscripts.  It  is  interesting  to  recall  that 
some  of  the  ablest,  most  conscientious,  and  elabor- 
ate criticisms  of  this  sort  were  written  by  Sinclair 
Lewis  in  the  days  when  he  was  employed  as  a 
publisher's  literary  adviser. 

[79] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

§  Suave  Rejection  Slips  Make  Many  Friends. 

Then  there  is  a  style  of  writing  a  letter  declin- 
ing a  manuscript  which  is  so  suave  and  diplomatic 
that  often  the  recipient  is  impelled  to  reply  that 
"to  have  a  manuscript  rejected  by  you  is  really 
a  pleasure.  It  is  almost  as  good  as  having  it 
accepted."    It's  a  gift. 

And  no  harm,  surely,  in  that.  In  being  nice 
and  polite  to  people.  Kind  to  a  fellow  creature. 
That  depends!  There  are  a  number  of  literary 
agents  who  are  of  the  opinion  that  the  thing  is 
too  generally  much  overdone.  Here  is  a  letter 
recently  received  by  an  agent: 

Though  I  have  no  time  at  all  for  writing,  I 
cannot,  even  after  all  these  years  of  denial,  silence 
the  longing ! 

As  I  before  remarked,  had  I  only  myself  to 
think  of  I  could  decide,  but — having  my  son  and 
being  determined  to  give  him  his  chance — what 
should  I  do?  Dare  I  hope  that  ultimately,  after 
not  too  many  years  I  can  devote  myself  to  wi'it- 
ing  and  make  enough  money  thereby  to  care  for 
and  educate  my  boy?  Or  should  I  give  up  the 
idea  and  turn  every  thought  and  spare  moment 
toward  advancement  in  the  teaching  profession? 
It  will  be  a  sacrifice — but  one  I  must  make  if  my 
longing  and  heart's  desire  is  only  longing  and 

[80] 


FIELD  OF  THE  LITERARY  AGENT 

nothing,  or  at  least  not  enough  of  something,  to 
justify  faith  and  effort. 

This  manuscript  is  the  most  ambiti«Dus  thing 
I  have  yet  done,  and  I  have  put  myself  into  its 
writing — that  is,  I  have  been  utterly  absorbed  in 
it — and  feel  the  subject  matter  deeply.  I  realize 
the  theme  is  by  no  means  a  popular  one,  and  that 
is,  so  far,  the  only  criticism  I  have  had  upon  it, 
and  it  has  been  very  well  spoken  of  indeed  by 
some  of  those  editors  that  have  seen  it;  for  in- 
stance— 

Please  write  me  freely  in  regard  to  it,  that  is, 
your  opinion  of  its  possibilities,  and  your  opinion 
of  my  capabilities  ("latent"  if  I  dare  to  use  the 
word)  and  possibilities,  probabilities  rather,  for 
successful  literary  work. 

I  must  make — a  living  at  least — from  the 
first,  hence  I  need  all  the  financial  compensation 
that  can  be  obtained. 

Please  pardon  this  diffuse  and  intimate  letter 
— but  I  am  so  alone  in  the  world  I  have  no  one 
to  tell  me  frankly  and  straightforward  what  I 
have  a  right  to  believe  of  myself  or  to  help  me 
with  an  unbiased  view  of  my  work  and  my 
ability. 

§  Often  Pathetically  Interpreted. 

The  "longing" — ^there  you  have  it.  It  is  all 
over  the  lot,  the  longing  to  "write."  It  is  (quite 
frequently)  in  some  very  estimable  hearts  where 
it  hasn't  a  ghost  of  a  show  to  be  realized.    And 

[81] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

a  phrase  softly  turned  by  a  bland  editor  is  often 
very  pathetically  interpreted. 

God  give  him  wisdom  to  know  when  it  is  the 
kinder  part  to  be  cold,  for  (when  you  realize  it) 
it  is  a  fearful  game  with  the  destiny  of  naive  souls 
that  he  plays,  the  editor.  Another  letter,  one 
typical  of  many,  to  an  agent : 

You  see,  I  am  a  poor  girl,  and  not  a  very 
strong  one  physically,  and  so  I  can't  stenog  all 
the  year  around,  and  it  happens  that  I  haven't 
been  working  over  a  year — otherwise  I  should 
jump  at  your  offer,  as  I  realize  that  without  an 
agent  I'll  win  success  when  I  am  on  the  verge  of 
the  grave,  which  is  too  long  to  wait. 

My  writing  is  everything  to  me.  The  things 
other  people  find  in  pretty  clothes,  amusements, 
sweethearts,  marriage,  etc.,  I  find  in  writing. 

I  took  my  novel  to  a  publishing  house  in  Bos- 
ton. They  have  had  it  2  months  now.  The  editor 
had  a  long  talk  with  me.  He  was  just  lovely. 
He  said  I  didn't  send  my  stories  out  enough. 
He  figured  out  that  I  must  send  each  story  to 
25  magazines  and  if  all  refuse  it  then  it's  no  good. 
I've  been  sending  a  story  to  4  and  then  stop.  He 
says  they  can't  come  to  a  decision  on  my  novel, 
but  for  me  to  have  patience.  He's  going  to  read 
it  himself. 

I  am  enclosing  one  of  the  rejection  slips  I've 
been  receiving  from  editors.  You  see  it  is  not 
stereotyped.    It  is  really  a  letter.    They  always 

[82] 


FIELD  OF  THE  LITERARY  AGENT 

hope  to  see  more  of  my  work  and  they  never  take 
any  of  it. 

Yes;  they  always  hope  to  see  more  of  your 
work,  but  they  never  take  any  of  it. 

§  The  Uncertain  Test  of  Comparison. 

Why  such  untold  multitudes  long  to  write  is 
one  of  the  mysteries  of  human  life.  But  why  so 
very  many  people  are  firmly  convinced  that  they 
can  write  is  not  so  far  to  seek.  The  correspond- 
ence of  a  literary  agent  strikingly  reveals  the 
almost  universal  prevalence  of  the  assumption 
that  it  doesn't  take  much  ability  to  do  better 
writing  than  much  of  that  which  gets  published. 

"Goodness  gracious!  Did  you  read  'The  Hum 
Bee'  in  last  week's  'Saturday  Evening  Post'  by 
Laura  Dayton?"  begins  a  letter  very  representa- 
tive of  this  popular  feeling.  The  writer  con- 
tinues :  "I  think  it  is  the  silliest  story  I  ever  read. 
There  is  no  plot  to  that.  And  the  children  de- 
picted therein — twelve  years  old — are  absolutely 
the  stiff  est,  most  unnatural  creatures  I  have  ever 
met  up  with,  and  yet  she  sold  that  story.  I  read 
just  such  a  foohsh  one  in  'The  Ladies'  Home 
Journal' — it  was  about  a  girl  advising  a  man 
about  wooing  a  sweetheart.    Why  is  it  that  those 

[83] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

stories  sell?  If  you  gave  me  constructive  criti- 
cism on  my  story  wouldn't  'The  Saturday  Even- 
ing Post'  take  it?  They  publish  worse  drivel 
than  that." 

Many  silly  stories  are,  indeed,  bought  and  pub- 
lished, no  one  can  deny.  And  notwithstanding 
the  continual  assertion  of  fiction  editors  that  they 
are  forever  keenly  on  the  lookout  for  fresh  and 
original  talent,  and  that  nothing  gives  them  so 
much  joy  as  to  find  it,  stories  of  intrinsic  merit 
now  and  then  are  for  long  turned  down.  It  re- 
quires talent  of  one  sort  to  "see"  a  fresh  and 
original  story  as  well  as  it  takes  talent  of  another 
sort  to  write  one.  And  even  talented  editors 
have  been  known  to  take  stories  of  a  somewhat 
novel  nature  and  then  fail  in  the  courage  to  print 
them.  There  is,  for  instance,  the  case  of  Mr. 
Tarkington's  story  "Cherry,"  taken  on  its  merits 
as  a  waggish  farce,  a  whimsical  tale  with  a  con- 
summately polished  surface,  by  Heniy  Mills 
Alden,  when  the  author  was  practically  unknown. 
It  lay  in  his  desk  for  several  j^ears,  presumably 
regarded  in  the  light  of  an  unhappy  selection — 
as  an  editorial  faux  pas,  perhaps — until  the  suc- 
cess of  the  author's  other  books  (written  later) 
brought  it  quickly  out  of  its  obscurity  in  manu- 
[84] 


FIELD  OF  THE  LITERAKY  AGENT 

script  or  galley  form,  and  led  to  its  swift  publica- 
tion with  a  greatly  augmented  value.  Some  such 
incident  probably  is  what  kindly  speaking  editors 
have  in  mind  when  they  tell  disappointed  young 
authors  not  to  change  their  stories  but  to  hold 
them  just  as  they  are  until  they  are  more  success- 
ful, when  perhaps  they  can  publish  them.  As  to 
that,  if  you  are  successful  enough  in  making  some 
lucky  strike,  you  can  (as  you  have  noticed)  dig 
up  anything  and  get  it  published — for  a  while. 
"There  was  another  'Hum  Bee'  story  in  'The 
Saturday  Eve.  Post,'  "  wrote,  in  a  later  letter,  the 
young  lady  above  referred  to.  "It  was  worse 
than  the  first."  A  hterary  agent  will  tell  you, 
however,  that  in  general  if  you  really  analyze  the 
stories  that  strike  you  this  way  you  will  find, 
underlying  the  silliness,  a  new  idea,  or  an  original 
twist  to  the  plot,  or  a  fresh  incident  which  makes 
the  story  different  from  others  of  its  kind.  And 
that,  according  to  his  experience,  it  is  this  bit  of 
originality  which  turns  an  otherwise  hopeless 
manuscript  into  a  "salable"  story. 

§  Literary  Agents  as  Father  Confessors. 

An  editor  to  a  considerable  extent,  but  a  lit- 
erary agent  even  more  so,  appears  to  be  regarded 

[85] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

by  a  vast  number  of  striving  souls  as  a  sort  of 
Father  Confessor.  In  the  simple  sincerity  of 
their  ambition,  and  often  amid  an  environment 
which  they  feel  not  to  be  in  sympathy  with  it, 
they  turn  out  their  hearts  in  letters  to  that  wise, 
powerful,  and  wondrous  being  who  sits  at  the 
center  of  the  world  of  their  desire,  and  tell  about 
their  birth,  schoohng,  marriage,  and  need  of 
money.  Here  is  one  of  these  letters  to  an  agent, 
which  is  itself,  doubtless,  far  more  of  a  real  story 
than  the  author  of  it  will  ever  write  to  tiy  to  sell: 

I  will  explain  my  situation  to  you  and  will  then 
ask  you  pointedly  if  you  think  it  worth  the  while 
to  try  and  write  stories  to  sell.  I  ran  away  and 
married  very  young,  barely  sixteen,  and  my  mar- 
riage was  a  failure  from  the  very  beginning.  My 
husband  left  for  parts  unknown,  leaving  me  with 
two  little  girls  to  support  the  best  way  I  can.  At 
present  I  am  employed  in  the  capacity  of  a 
stenographer  and  earning  only  a  small  salary. 

I  have  a  great  desire  to  rise  over  difficulties 
that  have  been  mine  for  so  long.  I  want  to  get 
out  of  the  rut  into  which  I  have  fallen,  through 
really  no  fault  of  mine. 

Writing  has  always  come  easily  to  me.  At 
school  themes  and  compositions  were  only  as 
child's  play  to  me,  while  writing  letters  was  a 
source  of  amusement.  I  have  just  recently 
attempted  to  write. 
[86] 


FIELD  OF  THE  LITERARY  AGENT 

Now  I  would  be  glad  if  you  would  give  me 
j'^our  frank  opinion,  for  I  am  sure  that  it  would 
be  worth  while  from  one  of  your  experience.  I 
have  no  money  to  spend  that  will  not  bring  re- 
sults, for  in  spending  any  on  criticisms  it  would 
mean  privations  from  sources  such  as  going  with- 
out lunch  or  things  of  that  matter,  but  I  would 
not  mind  if  it  would  later  mean  something  that 
would  give  me  the  means  of  doing  something 
really  worth  while  and  would  help  my  children. 

Please  pardon  the  airing  of  domestic  sorrows 
as  it  were  the  family  clothes  line,  to  be  viewed  in 
passing,  but  I  thought  if  I  told  you  my  exact 
situation  you  would  know  better  how  to  advise 
me. 

If  you  think  the  story  worth  while,  I  will 
gladly  send  the  amount. 

Thanking  you  for  your  attention  to  the 
matter. 

The  "story"  sent  presented  no  conception  at 
all  of  the  form  or  construction  of  a  story.  It  was 
simply  conversation  between  a  man  and  a  woman, 
the  woman  calling  the  man  all  sorts  of  "names" 
because  he  does  not  love  her. 

§  The  Agent's  Reward. 

The  novice  writer  seems  to  be  much  more  tem- 
peramental than  the  professional  writer,  and  in 
his  relations  with  literary  agents  to  have  ideas  of 

[87] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

business  which  are  very  unbusinesslike.  Real 
writers,  the  literary  agent  tells  you,  make  no 
bones  about  their  bill.  The  average  attitude  of 
the  novice  writer  is  that  the  agent  undertakes  to 
offer  the  manuscript  for  sale  on  a  commission 
basis  if  sold,  with  no  charge  if  unsuccessful. 
When,  after  prolonged  efforts  with  it,  the  literary 
agent  at  length  returns  to  the  author  of  it  a 
manuscript  which  he  has  found  cannot  be  placed, 
making  no  charge  for  his  time,  but  sending  a 
small  bill  to  cover  postage  he  has  spent,  he  is  very 
likely  never  to  hear  again  from  that  person,  who 
has  probably  got  "sore."  Indeed,  there  is  the 
case  where  the  husband  of  an  amateur  writer,  a 
physician  in  the  middle  west,  angrily  wrote  an 
agent  that  if  any  more  of  his  nefarious  bills  were 
sent  he  would  have  the  agent  arrested.  Though 
there  is  another  story  of  an  opulent  lady  who  sent 
with  her  manuscript  a  blank  check,  signed. 

With  a  world  full  of  people  clamoring  to  have 
their  literary  efforts  "criticized,"  literary  agents 
often  are  inclined  to  recommend  correspondence 
courses  in  the  short  story  as  a  helpful  tiling  for 
beginners.  And  they,  literary  agents,  not  seldom 
"get  in  bad"  in  that  way.  As,  when  a  corre- 
spondence school  has  praised  a  student's  story 
[88] 


FIELD  OF  THE  LITERARY  AGENT 

(possibly  at  some  places  with  a  view  to  encourage 
him  to  take  the  next  course  in  "advanced  story 
writing")  and  the  literary  agent  finds  he  cannot 
sell  it,  the  student  is  very  apt  to  think  him  a 
"goat." 


[89] 


IV 

WHY  BE  AN  AUTHOB? 

AVERY  distinguished  author  took  the 
trouble  to  write  a  long  letter  of  comment 
on  the  early  chapters  of  this  book  shortly  after 
their  original  appearance  in  "The  Bookman" 
magazine.  His  letter  begins  in  a  highly  compli- 
mentary spirit,  but  a  bit  later  grows  rather  dole- 
ful. Among  other  things,  it  says:  "They  [the 
chapters]  will  inspire  in  the  bosoms  of  young 
writers  the  thought,  'How  simple!  I'll  try 
again!'  " 

His  letter  continues:  "Not  that  the  budding 
authors  of  these  days  need  sympathy.  Many  of 
them  need  suppressing.  Nearly  all  of  them  need 
apprenticeship.  I  recall  a  young  man  in  New 
Orleans,  son  of  a  lady  who  let  rooms.  He  was 
taking  a  course  in  English  literature  and  short 
story  writing.  I  told  him,  in  an  absent  way, 
merely  to  show  I  was  interested  and  to  make  con- 
[90] 


WHY  BE  AN  AUTHOR? 

versation,  that  I  had  once  had  a  book  published. 
He  said,  'Oh,  of  course,  that  comes  later.'  " 

Well,  this  simple-hearted  young  man  was,  at 
any  rate,  pursuing  an  apprenticeship,  of  a  sort. 
And  that  word  "apprenticeship,"  it  should  be 
evident,  has  been  one  repeatedly  encountered  in 
the  researches  among  editors,  publishers,  and 
established  writers  which  have  largely  contrib- 
uted to  the  substance  of  this  book. 

As  for  trying  again,  what  else  is  there  for  the 
"struggling"  young  author  to  do?  But  it  is  not 
the  intention  of  this  book  to  present  the  matter 
of  becoming  an  author  as  a  simple  one.  Far  from 
it.  Various  ways  of  approaching  editors  and 
publishers  are  discussed  in  other  chapters.  The 
innumerable  persons  aspiring  to  write  for  pub- 
lication are  full  of  questions  as  to  what  they 
should  do  to  succeed.  A  question  which  is  highly 
pertinent  to  consider  is,  Why  write  at  all? 

§  A  Failure  at  Everything  Else. 

An  extensive  investigation  into  the  motives 
which  lead  a  vast  host  of  people  to  attempt  to 
write  for  publication  would  probably  bring  out  a 
situation  at  first  odd  to  contemplate.  A  great 
many  of  these  people,  it  would  likely  be  found, 

[91] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

turn  to  the  idea  of  writing  because,  for  one  reason 
or  another,  they  have  failed  at  everything  else 
they  have  undertaken.  "It  is  all  I  am  fitted  to 
do,"  says  a  letter  from  a  woman  who  hopes  to 
obtain  a  "broader  outlook"  on  life  and  to  help 
provide  for  her  son  through  her  "love  of  writing." 
Another  letter  confesses:  "I  certainly  hope  that 
I  can  do  something  with  my  stories  for  I  am  a 
failure  at  everything  else  I  go  into."  And  a  third 
letter  states  the  writer's  reason  for  taking  up 
authorship  thus:  "I  am  almost  ready  to  give  up 
library  work ;  have  put  in  two  months  and  noth- 
ing to  show  for  my  efforts  yet.  The  waiting  is 
weary." 

Almost  all  of  us  have  to  find  some  sort  of  live- 
lihood. When  unfortunate  in  affairs  near  at 
home,  we  are  Hkely  to  look  toward  some  happily 
veiled  distant  horizon.  "As  I  am  trying  to  get  a 
little  money  to  help  a  loved  one  I  am  sending  you 
two  song  poems,"  says  a  communication.  "As  a 
result  of  the  much  talked  of  H.  C.  of  L.  I  am 
faced  by  the  necessity  of  earning  a  Hving  for 
myself  and  others,"  is  the  story  told  in  innumer- 
able letters  concerning  manuscripts.  In  the  letter 
just  quoted  the  next  statement  is  this:  "In  ap- 
praising my  various  qualifications  I  feel  no  doubt 
[92] 


WHY  BE  AN  AUTHOR? 

in  saying  that  the  thing  I  can  do  best  and  with 
the  least  effort  is  to  express  myself  well  in  writ- 
ing." 

And  many  and  many  a  one  is  attracted  by  the 
stories  of  "big  money"  and  quick  success  in  the 
"writing  game."  "I  was  persuaded  to  try  my 
hand  at  story  writing  because  of  the  colossal  sums 
pubhshers  would  pay  for  acceptable  Ms.,"  writes 
a  citizen  of  Georgia.  Advertisements  stating  that 
so  many  million  words  of  fiction  are  bought  an- 
nually by  American  magazine  editors  give  the 
impression  that  the  demand  is  far  in  excess  of  the 
supply.  Writing  stories  "looks  so  easy"  that 
many,  particularly  folk  not  occupied  with  success 
in  something  else,  are  inclined  to  "give  it  a  trial," 
believing  that  there  is  nothing  to  lose  and  maybe 
much  to  gain — "easy  money"  to  gain. 

§  Craving  for  Fame  and  Admiration. 

Reason  number  two  why  people  want  to  write 
would  probably  be  found  in  the  countless  number 
of  ambitious,  sentimental  people  who  have  a 
craving  for  the  "limeHght."  So  many  of  us  want 
to  be  famous ;  known  all  over  the  country ;  talked 
about,  quoted  and  admired !  Many  aspire  to  the 
stage  or  struggle  for  an  entrance  into  the  movies ; 

[93] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

more,  vastly  more,  buy  (or  rent)  a  typewriter 
and  lay  in  some  copy  paper.  To  go  on  the  stage 
or  into  the  movies  requires  a  good  deal  of  effort. 
And  then  it  means  giving  up  the  job  you  may 
have,  leaving  home,  and  probably  starting  in  with 
a  small  role  and  smaller  pay.  "Writing"  requires 
no  risk  or  discomfort.  A  typewriter,  some  paper, 
a  few  stamped  envelopes,  perhaps  a  dictionary, 
maybe  a  book  on  How  to  Do  It,  and  a  spare  hour 
or  two  now  and  then,  and  one  can  fancy  that  he 
is  equipped  and  ready  to  become  famous  over 
night. 

If  all  the  people  in  this  country  who  want  to 
write  could  be  gathered  in  one  place  (a  tremen- 
dous sight  it  would  be!),  and  if  a  voice  from  a 
huge  megaphone  asked  those  to  stand  up  who 
once  wrote  a  story  "just  for  the  fun  of  it"  and 
then  showed  it  to  a  friend  whose  enthusiastic  en- 
couragement led  to  their  idea  of  becoming  pub- 
lished authors — ^there  would  be  a  mighty  upris- 
ing. Once  an  innocent,  amateur  author  has 
shown  a  story  of  his  to  a  friend  or  relative,  he 
(a  gentleman  dealing  much  in  manuscripts  said 
the  other  day)  is  lost.  Until  the  day  of  his  death 
he  will  be  hounded  by  that  friend  and  everyone 
else  who  knows  of  his  experiment.  "You  must 
[94] 


WHY  BE  AN  AUTHOR? 

keep  at  your  writing,"  they  will  say.  "Don't  give 
up.  I  see  much  worse  stuff  than  yours  in  the 
magazines  every  day.  Don't  be  discouraged. 
Sooner  or  later  you  will  be  recognized." 

§  Egged  On  hy  Laudation  of  Friends. 

Sometimes  one  does  not  even  go  so  far  as  to 
write  out  a  story  before  his  friends  eg^  him  on  to 
become  an  author.  An  illustration  of  this  is  given 
in  the  following  note: 

The  writer  is  enclosing  herewith  a  MS  for 
your  consideration.  I  wish  to  inform  you  that 
this  story  is  a  true  story.  The  author  was  an 
eye  witness  of  this  phenoma  which  occurred  for 
the  first  time  in  the  month  of  June,  1908. 

I  have  told  this  story  to  groups  of  people  at 
different  times,  and  same  has  been  received  with 
much  interest  and  amazement.  For  this  reason 
I  believe  that  this  story  would  make  a  "Hit"  pro- 
viding it  would  be  properly  revised. 

Then  every  here  and  there  may  be  discovered 
persons  who  have  had  more  or  less  experience  in 
writing,  and  who  write  capably  enough  one  kind 
of  thing,  who  want  to  write  something  quite  dif- 
ferent. An  architect,  for  instance,  or  an  engineer, 
who  has  contributed  articles  of  value  to  the  jour- 
nals of  his  profession,  or  a  man  engaged  in 

[95] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

business  who  may  have  written  authoritatively 
on,  say,  cotton  for  a  trade  paper,  considers  that 
writing  salable  fiction  on  the  side  would  not  be  a 
thing  outside  his  scope. 

Now  and  then  somebody  confesses  a  reason 
for  wanting  to  write  which  is  somewhat  unusual. 
A  letter  from  an  adventurous  soul  in  the  far 
west  states:  "Although  making  a  good  living 
from  my  trade,  if  I  thought  for  one  moment  that 
by  steady  and  strict  application  to  the  business 
of  writing  I  could  make  a  success  I  would  cer- 
tainly follow  it  up  for  the  following  reasons:  I 
Hke  writing,  my  imagination  is  good,  I  write  fast 
(which  probably  accounts  for  my  poor  penman- 
ship ) ,  but  most  important  of  all — I  covld  stay  at 
home'* 

A  singular  case  recently  come  across  in  an 
editorial  office  was  that  of  a  person  who  had,  so 
to  say,  got  drawn  into  writing  without  wanting 
to  write  at  all.  As  her  letter  said:  "So  far  as 
writing  stories  myself  is  concerned  I  was  never 
gifted  or  talented,  and  never  thought  of  such  a 
thing.  My  natural  talents  ran  along  another 
line.  I  even  hated  to  write  a  letter  and  was 
always  a  failure  at  school."  Then  she  explained: 
[96] 


WHY  BE  AN  AUTHOR? 

"I  now  receive  almost  everything  I  wish  for  from 
the  unseen  invisible  Authors  by  Automatic  writ- 
ings, most  of  the  plots  are  very  fine  indeed,  and 
it  is  very  interesting  to  me  to  receive  them.  I 
write  about  places  I  have  never  seen  and  people 
and  countries  that  are  strange  to  me.  The  stories 
are  almost  complete,  but  the  descriptions  and 
clothes  are  not  given.  The  plots,  the  conversa- 
tions and  the  ideas  are  always  good — from  certain 
high  inspirational  Spirits,  and  of  course  some  are 
given  from  Souls  not  so  highly  developed,  also. 
...  I  can  receive  a  plot  almost  any  moment.'* 

§  Helps  Some  to  Pass  the  Time, 

An  interesting  motive  for  wanting  to  write  is 
presented  in  a  letter  from  a  woman  who  says:  "I 
am  anxious  to  become  a  writer,  for  I  now  live  in 
a  small  town,  with  nothing  of  interest  here,  and 
that  will  help  me  pass  the  time."  She  apparently 
overlooks  the  matter  of  telling  what  it  is  that  calls 
to  her  for  expression.  Presumably,  she  has  not 
been  tortured  as  was  Keats: 

When  I  have  fears  that  I  may  cease  to  be 

Before  my  pen  has  glean'd  my  teeming  brain. 

Before  high-piled  books,  in  charact'ry. 

Hold  like  full  garners  the  full  ripen'd  grain. 

[97] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

But  others,  it  seems,  to  some  degree  are  in  his 
predicament.  This  from  another  letter,  repre- 
sentative of  a  class  of  those  written  to  persons  in 
the  business  of  handhng  manuscripts  by  people 
who  want  to  write :  "But,  oh !  I  have  seen  so  much 
of  wild  life  on  the  border — adventure — gold  hunt- 
ing— crime  and  danger — that  I  hate  to  go  to  my 
grave  with  it  all  wntold,  unknown!"  Again,  a 
desire  to  write  frequently  seems  to  spring  from 
something  of  a  sporting  temper:  So-and-so  had  a 
story  in  the  "Post,"  "dealing  with  hunger  and 
hard-upness,  that  stirred  my  competitive  spirit." 

§  Others  Have  "the  Gift." 

Many  with  a  yearning  to  write  have  ceased  to 
be  young.  A — what  shall  one  say? — a  hankering 
to  write  not  infrequently  smolders  through  the 
adversities  of  many  years.  One  "past  fifty  years 
of  age  .  .  .  with  no  literary  education,  training 
or  ability,  so  far  as  anyone  knows,"  writes :  "Like 
many  other  men,  I  have  often  thought  I  had  a 
talent  which  circumstances  starved  in  my  youth." 
Another:  "From  mere  childhood  it  was  always 
my  one  ambition  to  be  an  author."  Again:  "I 
know  I  can  write ;  it  has  been  a  gift  to  me  from 
girlhood."  And  a  person  of  rather  Topsy-like 
[98] 


WHY  BE  AN  AUTHOR? 

temperament  says:  "For  years  and  years  I  have 
been  told  that  I  had  talent — and  I  guess  I  have." 

Frequently,  too,  the  desire  to  write  is  declared 
by  quite  unpublished  writers  to  be  ineradicable. 
A  letter  from  one  who  wants  criticism  "the  worst 
way"  says:  "But  if  you  should  say  that  I  had 
better  give  up  writing  I  am  afraid  I  couldn't 
obey,  for  my  faith  has  grown  blind  from  old  age, 
but  is  still  alive  and  won't  be  downed." 

So  many,  and  more,  are  reasons  why  people 
want  to  write.  The  distinguished  author  with 
whose  comment  this  chapter  opened  very  prob- 
ably would  see  very  little  hope  for  any  of  the 
aspirants  from  whose  letters  quotations  have  here 
been  made.  And  doubtless  most  people  with  any 
practical  experience  of  the  business  of  writing 
would  agree  with  him.  Yet  it  is  undeniable  that 
people  have  succeeded  who  have  written  from  the 
reasons,  some  of  the  reasons,  that  have  just  been 
discussed.  One  does  not  have  to  delve  very 
deeply  into  hterary  history  to  discover  writers  of 
enduring  fame  who  did  make  their  mark  in  litera- 
ture after  having  failed  at  about  everything  else 
they  had  attempted ;  and  who  admitted  that  they 
were  "good  for"  nothing  else.  People  (now  and 
then)  have,  indeed,  succeeded  passably  well  at 

[99] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

writing  who  wrote  from  need  of  money.  A  desire 
for  fame  has  not  been  absent  from  the  minds  of 
men  who  have  become  illustrious  authors.  Such 
a  thing  has  happened  as  a  man  or  a  woman  be- 
coming an  author  through  having  written  a  story 
merely  to  amuse  his  children,  or  hers.  Men  emi- 
nent in  medicine  or  the  law  or  something  else 
unrelated  to  literature  have  turned  with  much 
facility  to  fiction.  Distinguished  achievements 
have  been  made  in  literature  by  persons  who  took 
up  authorship  weU  along  in  life.    And  so  on. 

§  What  the  Would-be  Author  Faces. 

Of  those  things,  indeed,  much  (probably  over 
much)  has  been  told.  What  the  would-be  writer 
has  had  little  opportunity  to  know  is  just  what 
he  faces. 

First,  there  should  be  considered  the  immense 
amount  of  competition.  To  anyone  who  has  had 
to  do  with  editing  a  magazine  it  seems  that  ninety- 
nine  people  out  of  every  hundred  are  writing  or 
trying  to  write  for  publication.  Would  the  rudi- 
mentary ^vriter  enter  the  hsts  in  any  other  com- 
petition against  such  a  vast  multitude  of  contest- 
ants? Then,  actually,  there  is  comparatively 
small  demand  for  creative  writing.  That  is,  the 
[100] 


WHY  BE  AN  AUTHOR? 

number  of  magazines,  after  all,  is  fairly  limited. 
If  you  have  a  story  of  a  distinct  type,  and  you 
make  a  list  of  the  magazines  for  which  it  is 
entirely  suitable,  you  will  find  hardly  more  than 
three  or  four.  And  there  is  room  in  each  maga- 
zine for  only  a  comparatively  small  number  of 
features.  There  is  room,  all  over  the  United 
States,  for  thousands  of  physicians  and  lawyers. 
But  there  would  need  to  be  hundreds  of  more 
magazines  in  America  than  there  are  to  make 
room  for  thousands  of  new  writers. 

Advertisements  proclaiming  that  there  are 
thousands  of  dollars  to  be  made  by  writing  stories 
put  very  false  notions  into  the  heads  of  many 
people.  The  relatively  few  authors  of  great 
popularity  do,  of  course,  receive  very  substan- 
tial incomes  from  their  work.  But  the  income 
derived  from  the  writing  of  numerous  authors 
of  very  fair  popularity  is  not  sufficient  for  their 
needs.  You  find  them  acting  as  editors,  pub- 
lishers' readers,  professors,  lecturers,  farmers,  as 
officers  in  service  on  the  sea,  and  what  not. 

§  Prices  Paid  for  Manuscripts. 

In  fact,  the  payment  for  writing  in  general  is 
ridiculously  small.    Five  cents  a  word  is  high  pay, 

[101] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

indeed,  for  a  writer  with  more  or  less  of  a  name. 
Anything  over  two  cents  a  word  is  doing  pretty 
well.  Many  magazines  pay  one  cent  a  word  or 
less.  Some  actual  prices  paid  by  well-known 
publications  are  here  given:  twelve  dollars  for  a 
2,500  word  story;  twelve  dollars  for  a  1,200  word 
story,  pcdd  on  publication;  ten  dollars  for  a  4,000 
word  story  that  had  been  rejected  by  more  than 
a  score  of  editors ;  twenty-five  dollars  for  a  4,000 
word  story;  fifty  dollars  for  a  4,000  word  story. 

Able  writers  who  attempt  to  live  by  "free 
lance"  writing  not  seldom  have  a  precarious  time 
of  it.  One  must  be  wary  of  counting  on  payment 
for  his  work  by  any  certain  date.  An  editor 
accepts  a  manuscript,  maybe  after  holding  it  for 
some  time  for  consideration;  he  "puts  through" 
a  voucher  for  payment  to  the  author;  this  perhaps 
gets  stalled  somewhere  in  the  machinery  of  the 
business  office  of  the  magazine;  and  it  is  a  week 
or  two  before  the  author  gets  his  money.  And 
magazines  themselves,  every  once  in  a  while,  have 
a  precarious  time  of  it;  when  their  contributors 
are  not  paid  for  a  considerable  period.  Instances 
have  been  when  the  contributors  to  the  final  num- 
bers of  a  wabbling  magazine  were  not  paid  at  all. 

An  experienced  writer  "on  his  own"  may  earn 
[102] 


WHY  BE  AN  AUTHOR? 

a  couple  of  hundred  dollars  or  so  in  one  week, 
and  for  several  weeks  afterward  average  some- 
thing like  fourteen  dollars  and  eighty-four  cents. 
The  beginner  writer  should  not  consider  that  he 
has  "arrived"  when  he  has  sold  one  storj',  or  even 
several ;  it  may  be  a  year  before  he  places  another. 
And  the  future  of  a  writer  who  may  be  having  a 
very  fair  success  now  is  not  any  too  secure.  Pub- 
lic taste  changes.  New  orders  come  in.  The 
kind  of  thing  which  took  so  well  yesterday  may 
be  quite  out  of  fashion  tomorrow. 

§  Royalties  on  Published  Books. 

There  is  among  people  generally  much  miscon- 
ception as  to  the  profits  ordinarily  derived  by  the 
author  from  the  publication  of  a  book.  The  price 
of  a  novel  today  is  about  two  dollars.  Usuallj^ 
the  author  receives  a  royalty  of  about  twenty 
cents  a  copy  on  the  first  two  thousand  copies  sold, 
and  perhaps  thirty  cents  on  each  copy  thereafter. 
A  novel  which  sold  upward  of  fifty  thousand 
copies  would  then  bring  the  author  something  like 
fourteen  thousand  dollars.  Many  men  make  as 
much  as  fourteen  thousand  dollars  by  a  year's 
work  at  some  other  business  or  profession  than 
authorship.    But  authors  who  make  that  amount 

[103] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

in  a  year,  or  anything  near  that  amount,  are  ex- 
ceedingly rare.  A  book  is  regarded  by  the  pub- 
lisher as  highly  successful  if  it  sells  from  five  to 
ten  thousand  copies.  Far  and  away  the  greater 
number  of  books  published  do  not  sell  as  many  as 
fifteen  hundred  copies.  Many  far  less.  A 
recently  published  book  which  received  a  very 
cordial  "press,"  has  had  an  uncommon  amount 
of  publicity,  and  the  advertisements  of  which 
announce  that  it  is  in  its  "fourth  printing,"  has 
after  about  half  a  year  earned  for  its  author  per- 
haps a  thousand  dollars.  Its  sale  now  in  active 
measure  is  over.  An  author  is  fairly  fortunate 
who  receives  as  much  as  five  or  six  hundred  dol- 
lars from  the  sale  of  his  book.  An  excellent  story 
was 'published  something  over  a  year  ago  which 
was  much  praised  by  many  reviewers.  It  took 
the  author  probably  the  better  part  of  a  year  to 
write  it.  He  was  then  six  months  or  more  get- 
ting it  accepted.  He  has  not  been  able  to  place 
much  of  anything  since.  At  the  end  then  of  two 
years  and  a  half  he  has  received  from  his  literary 
labors  about  one  hundred  and  ten  dollars.  He 
could  have  earned  that  amount  in  a  week  at  the 
occupation  which  was  his  before  he  turned  author. 
He  is,  nevertheless,  determined  to  continue  writ- 
[104] 


WHY  BE  AN  AUTHOR? 

ing  fiction.  In  a  letter  published  in  the  Authors*. 
League  "Bulletin"  of  April,  1916,  William  T. 
Ellis  stated  that  his  share  of  the  total  receipts 
from  the  sale  of  his  book,  "Billy  Sunday:  The 
Man  and  His  Message,"  of  which,  he  said, 
300,000  copies  had  been  sold,  was  $1,000,  "less  a 
few  hundred  dollars  in  cancelled  lecture  engage- 
ments and  other  special  expenses  made  necessary 
by  the  writing  of  the  book." 

But  before  one  who  would  write  comes  to  face 
the  matters  which  have  just  been  outlined,  there 
is  another  affair  which  he  must  first  face.  And 
that,  indeed,  cannot  be  too  much  dwelt  upon. 
He  must  equip  himself  to  write. 

"Is  it  necessary  to  go  to  school  to  be  a  Jour- 
nalist?" asks  the  writer  of  a  letter  from  Oregon. 
"I  have  never  written  before  because  I  have 
always  considered  a  good  education  was  neces- 
sary; and  that  is  something  I  lack,"  writes  an- 
other, from  Oklahoma.  "To  undertake  to  begin 
at  the  bottom  and  educate  myself  along  hterary 
lines  would  mean  putting  in  quite  a  bit  of  time, 
and  I  do  not  desire  to  undertake  it  unless  I  should 
find  it  worth  while,"  observes  the  author  of  a 
letter  from  Texas.  And  the  writer  of  another 
letter  from  the  west  has,  evidently,  with  some  sur- 

[105] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

prise,  suddenly  come  upon  a  truth  not  widely 
grasped.  "I  should  have  realized,"  he  says, 
"that  at  least  as  much  hard  work,  if  not  more,  was 
required  in  story  writing  as  in  any  other  profes- 
sion." 

§  What  Every   Would-be  Author  Should  Know. 

Yes;  one  certainly  must  "go  to  school"  to  be- 
come a  writer.  And  yet  no  school  can  really 
teach  one  how  to  be  an  author.  That  is  to  say, 
one  must  school  one's  self.  One  of  the  most  bril- 
liant and  successful  of  contemporary  American 
journalists  recommends  for  the  amateur  constant, 
and  rapid,  writing.  Another  view  is  held  by  the 
author  with  whose  comment  this  chapter  was  be- 
gun. He  is  William  McFee,  and  his  words 
should  be  well  weighed  by  the  literary  aspirant. 
His  letter  continues: 

A  most  important  point,  to  me,  is  the  question 
of  equipment.  I  do  feel  that  the  young  authors 
of  today,  published  and  otherwise,  are  scantily 
equipped  for  the  career  they  propose  to  follow. 
I  attribute  this  partly  to  the  defective  systejn  in 
the  schools  and  partly  to  the  movies.  I  have 
been  rendered  decidedly  uneasy  when  talking  to 
people  actually  in  literature,  by  the  slender- 
ness  of  their  mental  equipment.  Of  course,  some 
sorts  of  literary  work  not  only  need  no  equip- 

[106] 


WHY  BE  AN  AUTHOR? 

ment  but  would  be  impossible  with  it.  The 
essential  quality  of  some  pieces  of  writing  would 
be  lost  if  the  authors  had  "had  advantages,"  as 
they  used  to  say. 

Those,  however,  are  very  special  cases.  I  do 
think  that  the  average  young  American  is  in  need 
of  that  equipment  which  is  comprised  in  early 
omnivorous  reading.  They  read  too  many  new 
books.  Here,  you  see,  I  am  stirring  up  old  mud, 
for  I  am  about  to  utter  the  ancient  complaint  that 
if  you  are  to  do  well  you  must  have  a  standard, 
and  to  have  a  standard  you  must  read  what  has 
been  done.  ...  It  is  the  same  in  all  the  arts. 
What  La  Farge,  speaking  of  painting,  said  about 
"the  acquired  memories  of  the  artist,"  is  true  of 
and  can  be  applied  to  authorship. 

The  acquired  memories  of  the  artist!  So  I 
urge  the  young  writer  not  to  write  at  all,  but  to 
acquire  memories,  in  short  to  read.  If  he  or  she 
asks,  "What  shall  I  read?"  I  shall  reply  sadly, 
"I'm  afraid  it  won't  make  any  difference.  Be- 
cause there  is  always  in  these  matters  an  instinct. 
Read." 

I  hope  you  will  persist  in  harping  upon  the 
difficulties  of  authorship.  I  do  not  mean  the 
actual  trouble  of  getting  published — ^that  is 
largely  imaginary  nowadays — but  the  difficulty 
of  deserving  publication  when  you  get  it.  And 
you  will  not  deserve  it  if  you  concentrate  upon 
the  technical  and  monetary  aspects  of  your  art. 
It  seems  to  be  the  most  difficult  thing  in  the  world 
to  get  people  to  see  that  literature  is  a  creative 

[107] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

art.  You  brood  and  suffer  and  destroy  and  re- 
write and  give  up  in  despair.  You  eventually 
emerge  from  your  travail  with  something  far 
from  satisfactory  to  yourself  but  remotely  resem- 
bling the  thing  you  desire  to  create.  And  when 
people  read  the  book  and  see  that  character  which 
has  given  you  so  much  agony  to  produce,  they 
blandly  ask  you  where  you  saw  him,  or  her,  who 
is  the  original.  They  can't  believe  he  (or  she) 
is  the  figment  of  your  imagination.  They  don't 
beheve  a  writer  has  to  think  at  all.    He  does. 

Harp  on  that !    He  cannot  be  easily  a  thinker. 
And  he  must  be. 


[108] 


SEEING  A  BOOK  THROUGH  THE  PRESS 

A  PUBLISHER  of  very  large  activities 
remarked  that  there  were  a  number  of 
things  he  would  "like  to  see  said"  in  one  of  the 
chapters  of  this  book.  He  had  in  mind,  it  devel- 
oped, instructions  regarding  the  preparation  of 
manuscripts  to  be  submitted  for  publication. 
"And  it  ought  to  be  pretty  elementary  stuff,"  he 
added. 

Probably  it  ought  to  be.  Here  are  examples 
of  inquiries  frequently  received  by  those  dealing 
with  manuscripts : 

By  the  way,  are  my  mss.  decent  enough  in 
format:  are  there  too  many  corrections,  etc.? 
Do  editors  object  to  carbon  copies  as  they  are 
supposed  to  do? 

Will  you  please  tell  me  in  a  hand  written  does 
it  matter  if  all  the  brevations  are  not  put  in  Pleas 
ansure  this  question  as  it  has  puzzeled  me 
greatly. 

[109] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

One  thing  I  fell  down  on  miserably  was  writ- 
ing this  story  on  transparent  paper,  but  as  I  did 
not  discover  the  error  until  the  work  was  well 
advanced  I  decided  to  let  it  ride  this  time  and 
make  a  note  for  the  future. 

Manuscripts  come  into  editorial  offices  in  an 
extraordinary  number  of  sizes,  shapes,  and  de- 
signs. Stories  typed  on  white  paper,  yellow 
paper,  pink  paper,  and  blue  paper.  Editors  ques- 
tioned on  the  subject  could  not  recall  any  on  red 
paper,  or  green  paper;  but  probably  such  things 
have  been.  Manuscripts  have  arrived  typed  on 
transparent  paper,  on  tissue  paper,  on  waxed 
paper,  and  on  heavy  linen  paper.  A  gentleman 
who  has  read  many  manuscripts  reported  that  the 
most  devilish  manuscript  he  had  ever  read  was 
hand  written,  in  ]3encil,  on  both  sides  of  the  pages 
in  a  "dummy"  novel  such  as  the  salesmen  of  pub- 
lishing houses  carry  on  the  road.  And  that  par- 
ticular manuscript  was  written  by  a  man  who  had 
had  five  years  of  experience  in  publishing  houses, 
had  been  fifteen  years  with  a  New  York  news- 
paper, and  had  three  published  books  to  his 
credit !  Another  interesting  manuscript  that  this 
gentleman  recalled  was  written  in  ink  on  both 
sides  of  the  pages  in  several  stenographer's  note- 
[110] 


SEEING  A  BOOK  THROUGH  PRESS 

books.  The  ink  had  soaked  through  the  paper 
so  that  it  was  almost  impossible  for  anyone  to 
read  the  writing. 

§  Preparing  the  Manuscript. 

Now  it  has  been  continually  stated  by  editors 
that  to  receive  proper  attention  manuscripts 
should  be  typewritten,  on  one  side  of  the  page 
only.  It  has  not  so  frequently  been  said  that  it 
is  best  for  black  ink  to  be  used,  for  the  paper  to 
be  white,  and  of  medium  weight.  A  uniform  size 
of  paper  should  be  used  throughout  the  manu- 
script. The  size  most  convenient  to  handle  is 
eight  by  ten  or  eleven  inches.  A  fault  of  many 
inexperienced  writers  is  their  use  of  three  or  four 
different  kinds  and  sizes  of  paper  in  one  manu- 
script. Carbon  copies  are  not  only  difficult  to 
read,  but  they  are  likely  to  give  the  impression 
that  the  original  copy  has  been  worn  out  by 
journeys  back  and  forth  through  the  mails  to 
other  editors. 

To  invite  the  friendliness  of  an  editor  a  manu- 
script should  have  liberal  margins.  A  good  plan 
is  a  margin  at  the  top  of  the  page  of  at  least  one 
inch,  with  a  margin  of  an  inch  and  a  bit  more 
at  the  left  hand  side.     Double  spacing  on  the 

[111] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

typewriter  should  be  used.  Triple  spacing  is 
perhaps  even  better.  When  handwritten  script 
is  employed  there  should  be  a  space  of  at  least 
half  an  inch  between  the  lines. 

Pages  should  be  numbered  consecutively  to  the 
end  of  the  manuscript.  Many  authors  number 
the  pages  in  each  chapter,  the  first  page  of  each 
chapter  being  numbered  one.  This  is  a  bad  prac- 
tice, and  may  result  in  the  loss  of  parts  of  a  manu- 
script. Inserted  pages  should  be  numbered 
alphabeticallj%  as:  24a,  24b,  24c,  24d  and  so  on. 
Discarded  pages  should  be  accounted  for  on  the 
page  preceding  the  pages  removed.  So :  a  page 
marked  50-54  would  indicate  that  pages  51,  52, 
53,  and  54  had  been  cut  out  by  the  author.  Page 
55  would  then  be  the  next  page  looked  for  by 
the  manuscript  reader.  If  a  part  of  a  page  is 
to  be  attached  to  another  page  or  part  of  a  page, 
paste  or  mucilage  should  be  used,  pins  never, 

§  Manuscripts  Not  to  Be  Boiwd. 

Many  authors  have  their  typoscripts,  when  of 
book  length,  bound  in  board  covers  before  sub- 
mitting them.  This  is  a  mistake.  Such  bound 
affairs  are  awkward  to  handle,  and  tiresome  to 
read — as  the  reader  has  to  hold  the  entire  bulky 
[112] 


SEEING  A  BOOK  THROUGH  PRESS 

manuscript  while  he  is  reading.  Also  the  type- 
writer paper  easily  tears  out  of  the  binding.  The 
pages  of  a  manuscript  should  never  be  fastened 
together  by  anything  but  paper  clips.  But  why 
fasten  them  together  at  all?  A  better  plan  is 
simply  to  keep  the  manuscript  in  a  pasteboard 
box  such  as  the  boxes  in  which  typewriter  paper 
is  sold.  The  author  should  understand  that  when 
the  manuscript  is  sent  to  the  printer  it  is  spht  up 
among  a  number  of  typesetters  or  linotype 
operators.  When  the  pages  of  a  manuscript  are 
fastened  together  there  is  a  danger  of  mutilating 
them  in  separating  them  one  from  another. 

Typewritten  manuscripts  should  have  about 
the  same  number  of  words  on  each  page.  This 
can  best  be  accomplished  by  taking  care  to  write 
the  same  number  of  lines  on  each  page.  A  good 
arrangement  is  for  a  manuscript  to  contain 
twenty-five  lines  to  a  page,  with  the  lines  averag- 
ing about  ten  words.  The  result  is  250  words 
tgua^page.  This  is  a  small  matter  to  the  author, 
but  of  great  help  to  the  editor  and  printer.  When 
the  editor  or  printer  desires  to  know  the  number 
of  words  in  any  section  of  the  manuscript,  such 
as  a  chapter,  all  he  has  to  do  is  to  count  the 

[113] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

number  of  pages  in  the  section  and  multiply  it 
by  250 — and  there  he  is. 

Paragraphs  should  be  indented.  It  is  neces- 
sary to  the  appearance  of  a  book  that  the  para- 
graphs be  not  over-long.  About  two  hundred 
words,  not  over  three  hundred  words,  is  a  very 
fair  length.  A  book  with  long  paragraphs  and 
solid  type  pages  does  not  look  anywhere  near 
so  interesting  as  a  book  whose  pages  are  fre- 
quently broken  by  new  paragraphs.  Chapters, 
also,  should  not  be  too  long.  A  book  of  80,000 
words  should  contain  from  ten  to  twenty  chap- 
ters.   The  nearer  twenty  probably  the  better. 

As  a  rule,  footnotes  should  be  used  sparingly, 
rarely  if  ever  in  fiction  manuscripts.  As  far  as 
is  possible  the  information  should  be  incorporated 
in  the  text.  When  a  footnote  is  used  it  should 
appear  in  the  manuscript  immediately  after  the 
line  to  which  it  applies ;  and  should  be  typewrit- 
ten between  two  lines  and  after  the  word  "Note," 
as  follows: 

.  .  .  and  I  was  touched  and  charmed."  * 

NOTE :    *  Lair,  Un  maitre  de  Sainte-Beuve. 

If  illustrations  accompany  a  manuscript  it  is 
well  for  the  author  to  note  carefully  in  the  manu- 
[114] 


SEEING  A  BOOK  THROUGH  PRESS 

script  the  position  selected  by  him  for  each  illus- 
tration. 

Manuscripts  should  not  be  elaborately  gotten 
up.  It  should  be  the  purpose  of  the  author  to 
submit  his  story  or  book  in  the  most  readable, 
neat  and  readily  handled  form.  There  should  be 
as  few  pen  and  ink  corrections  as  possible.  And 
the  manuscript  as  a  whole  should  be  complete 
and  ready  to  be  sent  to  the  composing  room  as 
soon  as  accepted. 

After  a  manuscript  is  accepted  it  is  generally 
gone  over  by  the  literary  editor,  or  book  editor, 
who  may  suggest  some  changes  or  who  may  edit 
the  manuscript  to  conform  with  the  style  of  his 
particular  magazine  or  publishing  house.  After 
these  minor  changes,  if  there  are  any,  have  been 
made,  the  manuscript  is  sent  to  the  composing 
room,  where  it  is  distributed  among  the  type- 
setters. 

§  Correcting  the  ^'Galley'*  Proofs. 

The  lines  of  type  are  placed  in  a  shallow  metal 
container  known  as  a  galley.  A  galley  will  hold 
three  or  four  pages  of  book  type.  Proofs  are 
taken  of  each  galley.  These  galley  proofs  are 
compared  with  the  original  manuscript  by  the 

[115] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

proof  readers  of  the  magazine  or  publishing 
house,  and  the  typesetters'  errors  are  then  cor- 
rected. New  proofs  are  taken  and  sent  to  the 
author  in  duplicate  with  the  manuscript.  One 
of  the  two  sets  of  proofs  sent  to  the  author  either 
has  a  number  of  corrections  marked  upon  it  or 
else  has  a  memorandum  stamped  upon  it  in  red 
ink.  This  is  the  proof  the  author  must  return 
after  he  has  marked  his  corrections  upon  it.  The 
other  set  of  proofs  should  be  retained  by  the 
author,  and  upon  this  set  he  should  carefully 
copy  all  of  the  corrections  that  he  has  made  upon 
the  set  returned  to  the  printer.  Authors  should 
not  use  a  lead  pencil  in  correcting  proofs,  as  the 
marks  are  veiy  likely  to  become  illegible,  espe- 
cially if  the  proofs  are  sent  any  distance  through 
the  mail.  Either  ink  or  a  crayon  pencil  ought 
to  be  used. 

Authors  will  very  often  find  a  question  mark, 
or  "Qy,"  in  the  margin  of  their  proofs.  This 
means  that  the  publisher's  proof  reader  has  found 
a  statement,  or  spelling,  or  construction  which  he 
is  not  sure  of  himself,  and  which  he  desires  the 
author  to  O.  K.  or  correct.  The  point  may  be 
an  inconsistency  in  the  manuscript,  or  a  quotation 
the  proof  reader  recognizes  to  be  wrong,  or  some- 
[116] 


SEEING  A  BOOK  THROUGH  PRESS 

thing  like  that.  The  question  mark  or  "Qy" 
should  be  marked  through  by  the  author  when 
he  does  not  make  the  suggested  correction.  This 
shows  that  he  has  noted  the  matter  in  dispute  and 
has  decided  to  let  it  remain  as  it  stands.  Much 
inconvenience  and  delay  is  caused  when  an  author 
neglects  to  do  this,  as  when  the  proof  is  returned 
the  proof  readers  are  at  a  loss  as  to  what  to  do. 

§  Additional  Charges  for  Alterations. 

Authors  should  understand  (though  many  of 
them  evidently  do  not)  that  to  follow  out  in  the 
composing  room  any  of  the  corrections  or  altera- 
tions that  they  make  on  their  proofs,  costs  money. 
Publishers  agree  in  their  contracts  with  authors 
to  pay  only  a  certain  percentage  of  the  cost  of 
corrections.  When  an  author  writes  into  the  text 
on  his  proofs  any  appreciable  amount  of  new 
matter  he  will  be  charged  for  having  it  set  in 
type.  Some  very  unfortunate  disagreements  be- 
tween publishers  and  authors  have  arisen  from 
the  failure  of  the  author  to  understand  this  rule 
of  the  publishing  business.  There  is  a  case  where 
a  friendship  of  long  standing  was  impaired. 

When  the  proofs  have  been  corrected  by  the 
author  they  are  called  foul  proofs.    The  galleys 

[117] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

of  type  are  corrected  from  the  foul  proofs.  New 
proofs,  called  revised  proofs,  are  then  taken. 
These  revised  proofs  are  compared  with  the  foul 
proofs  by  the  proof  readers.  Some  publishing 
houses  send  revised  proofs  to  the  author,  others 
do  not  unless  the  author  has  made  a  special  re- 
quest to  see  them.  If  the  author  demands  to  see 
revised  proofs  he  will  probably  delay  the  publica- 
tion of  his  work.  Some  pubhshing  houses  ( some 
very  distinguished  ones)  do  not  send  the  author 
either  galley  proofs  or  revised  proofs  except  upon 
his  special  request,  or  in  the  case  of  illustrated 
books. 

§  Page  Proofs  Show  Corrections. 

The  type  is  next  taken  out  of  the  galleys  and 
carefully  arranged  into  pages.  The  number  of 
the  page,  the  title  of  the  book  or  the  chapter 
headings  are  added,  and  each  type  page  is 
securely  fastened  together  with  a  string.  Proofs 
are  then  taken  of  the  type  pages.  These  page 
proofs  are  sent  to  the  author  in  duplicate.  He 
should  go  over  them  carefully  to  make  sure  that 
all  of  his  original  corrections,  on  the  galley 
proofs,  have  been  made.  No  further  corrections 
should  be  made  upon  the  page  proofs  unless  they 
[118] 


SEEING  A  BOOK  THROUGH  PRESS 

are  absolutely  necessary,  because  a  line  or  two 
changed  may  require  the  rearrangement  of  sev- 
eral pages  or  even  an  entire  chapter. 

Final  corrections  are  made  on  the  type  pages, 
which  are  then  arranged  for  the  electrotyping 
process,  and  locked  in  a  form  which  holds  them 
firmly  together.  Just  before  the  electrotype 
plates  are  made,  proofs  are  taken  of  the  type 
pages.  These  are  called  plate  proofs.  They  are 
examined  to  make  sure  that  no  lines  have  slipped 
out  of  the  type  pages  during  the  process  of  plac- 
ing them  and  locking  them  in  the  forms.  Plate 
proofs  are  sometimes  sent  to  the  author.  But,  as 
a  rule,  not  in  time  for  him  to  make  further  cor- 
rections before  the  plates  are  actually  made. 

Electrotype  plates  are  then  cast  for  each  page, 
and  any  additional  corrections  made  thereafter 
by  the  author  are  an  expensive  matter,  because 
this  demands  the  cutting  of  one  or  more  plates, 
and  may  require  the  resetting  of  a  page  and  the 
casting  of  an  entirely  new  plate.  Plate  proofs 
may  be  distinguished  from  page  proofs  by  the 
heavy  black  rule  that  appears  around  the  pages. 
This  black  border  is  made  by  the  ink  from  pieces 
of  metal  known  as  guards,  which  are  placed  about 
the  type  to  hold  it  fast  while  the  cast  is  taken. 

[119] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

An  author's  first  experience  with  plate  proofs 
has  sometimes  been  rather  embarrassing  to  him. 
Stories  are  told  of  new  authors  returning  them 
double  quick  with  tempestuous  notes  demanding 
an  explanation  for  the  appearance  of  the  mourn- 
ing border,  its  immediate  removal,  and  insisting 
that  they  see  a  new  set  of  plate  proofs. 

§  Handling  *'Engraver^s  Copy." 

Material  and  instructions  for  illustrations 
should  be  furnished  to  the  publisher  apart  from 
the  manuscripts.  This  data  is  engraver's  copy, 
the  rest  of  the  manuscript  is  printer's  copy. 
These  two  kinds  of  material  are  kept  separate 
and  are  sent  to  entirely  different  departments. 
Drawings,  prints,  unmounted  photographs  and 
so  on,  should  not  be  folded  or  rolled.  Photo- 
graphs should  be  made  on  glossy  photographic 
paper  for  best  results. 

When  a  book  is  to  have  only  a  few  (two  or 
three)  illustrations  they  are  generally  made  full 
page  size,  printed  separately  on  coated  or  calen- 
dered paper,  and  inserted  when  the  book  is  bound. 
When  there  are  a  number  of  illustrations,  some 
of  which  are  to  appear  in  the  text,  the  entire  book 
is  printed  on  coated  or  calendered  paper,  and  the 
[120] 


SEEING  A  BOOK  THROUGH  PRESS 

cuts  inserted  in  the  type  pages.  Proofs  of  such 
illustrations  are  sent  to  the  author  with  the  galley 
proofs,  and  the  author  must  indicate  on  the 
proofs  where  he  desires  each  picture  placed.  This 
can  be  done  only  on  the  galley  proofs,  as  the  cuts 
must  be  placed  in  the  pages  and  must  be  shown 
on  the  page  proofs. 

Many  authors  indicate  the  position  of  cuts  on 
the  galley  proofs  by  writing  something  hke  this 
in  the  margin  of  the  proof:  "Insert  here  illus. 
No.  1 — Mrs.  Hunt  sitting  on  lawn  with  Bobs  in 
her  lap." 

This  means  nothing  to  the  engraver  because, 
in  the  first  place,  he  hasn't  read  the  manuscript 
and  doesn't  know  what  Mrs.  Hunt  looks  like, 
nor  whether  Bobs  is  a  cat,  dog,  or  child;  and  in 
the  second  place,  he  has  in  his  shop  probably  a 
half  dozen  or  more  cuts  of  various  women  sitting 
on  lawns  holding  cats,  dogs,  or  children  in  their 
laps,  and  he  won't  have  the  slightest  idea  which 
is  the  cut  of  Mrs.  Hunt  and  Bobs.  The  only 
safe  thing  for  the  author  to  do  is  to  paste  in  the 
margin  of  the  galley  proof,  the  proof  of  the  par- 
ticular illustration  which  he  desires  to  appear  in 
that  special  place. 

[121] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

§  Changing  Copy  to  Fit  Pages. 

In  the  case  of  newspapers  and  magazines, 
when  there  is  not  quite  enough  room  on  the  page 
for  the  amount  of  copy  in  hand,  .many  of  the 
leads  which  the  printer  places  between  the  lines 
of  type  are  removed,  and  the  lines  of  type  placed 
closer  together.  When  there  is  not  quite  enough 
copy,  leads  are  inserted  between  the  lines,  thus 
filling  the  page  by  stretching  out  the  printed 
matter  with  spacing  between  the  lines.  This  can 
be  done  in  newspapers  and  magazines  that  are 
rushed  through  the  presses,  quickly  read,  and 
soon  forgotten.  But  'books  are  a  different  mat- 
ter, and  more  skill  is  required  to  set  them.  So 
authors  are  very  often  requested  to  add  to  or 
take  from  their  copy,  that  the  compositor  can 
exactly  fill  a  page  without  having  to  resort  to 
extra  leads.  Sometimes  authors  fly  into  a  rage 
at  being  dictated  to  by  the  printer.  The  author 
should  remember  that  to  the  printer  a  book  is  just 
so  much  metal. 

Authors  should  be  sure  to  write  their  names 

and  addresses  at  the  upper  left  hand  comer  of 

the  first  page  of  their  manuscripts.     Although 

not  absolutely  necessary,  it  is  a  good  thing  to 

[122] 


SEEING  A  BOOK  THROUGH  PRESS 

have  the  author's  name  (at  least  his  last  name) 
appear  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner  of  every 
page  of  his  manuscript.  As  has  been  explained, 
manuscripts  are  cut  up  into  sections  of  so  many- 
pages,  and  each  section  is  given  to  a  different 
compositor  to  set.  These  sections  are  called 
takes.  When  the  author's  name  appears  on  every 
page  there  is  no  danger  of  the  takes  being  con- 
fused with  other  takes  allotted  to  the  same  com- 
positor. There  was  a  case  on  a  well  known  mag- 
azine where  interviews  were  obtained  with  two 
prominent  persons  on  the  same  subject.  The 
copy  of  these  two  interviews  had  not  been  care- 
fully marked  by  the  writers  before  being  sent  to 
the  composing  room.  The  takes  were  mixed  and 
the  two  interviews  were  set  up  as  one  article.  In 
the  first  few  paragraphs  the  person  interviewed 
was  reported  to  have  expressed  certain  opinions 
and  in  the  last  few  paragraphs  he  was  made  to 
contradict  flatly  every  one  of  these  opinions. 
When  the  proofs  reached  the  editor  he  realized 
at  once  that  a  mistake  must  have  been  made. 
He  called  for  the  original  manuscript  but  found 
it  impossible  to  separate  the  two  interviews. 
Result:  the  articles  were  killed  and  the  writers 
lost  their  pay  for  their  work.     Had  each  page 

[123] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

shown  the  name  of  the  writer  it  would  have  been 
an  easy  matter  to  separate  the  interviews. 

§  Publisher  Decides  Upon  Style  and  Format. 

It  is  generally  agreed  in  the  contracts  between 
publishers  and  authors  that  the  selection  of  the 
size  of  the  book,  the  style  of  the  type  page,  the 
kind  of  paper  and  style  of  binding,  the  question 
of  illustrations,  and  the  design  of  the  paper 
jacket,  be  left  to  the  pubhsher.  But  the  author 
is  free  to  make  suggestions,  which  sometimes  are 
helpful — but  not  generally  so.  The  publisher, 
as  a  rule,  is  the  better  judge  of  these  things. 
They  happen  to  be  his  business. 

The  manufacturing  man  in  a  well  known  pub- 
lishing house  one  time  wrote:  "The  art  of  print- 
ing is  so  largely  a  mechanical  art,  with  fixed 
restrictions  as  to  what  can  and  what  cannot  be 
done  within  a  given  space  of  type,  that  even  the 
experienced  writer  will  sometimes  find  himself 
confronted  with  results  that  had  not  occurred  to 
him  as  possible." 

De  Vinne  said:  "It  is  the  correctness  and  the 

careful  arrangement  of  text-matter  more  than 

any  novelty  in  plan,  grace  in  display,  or  skill  in 

decoration  that  give  distinction  to   any  book. 

[124] 


SEEING  A  BOOK  THROUGH  PRESS 

Next  to  clearness  of  expression  on  the  part  of 
the  author  comes  clearness  in  its  reproduction  by 
the  printer."  This  could  also  apply  to  the 
author's  original  manuscript  which  he  submits 
to  the  editor.  And  it  suggests  that  it  might  be 
well  for  the  author  to  appreciate  the  part  the 
printer  plays  in  the  success  of  his  book.  The 
author  should  unhesitatingly  leave  a  good  deal  to 
the  judgment  of  the  publisher  and  printer. 


[125] 


VI 

PUBLISHING   YOUR   OWN    BOOK 

"To   the  Vanity   Publisher,   Sir,"   She   Said 
*' Where  are  you  going,  my  pretty  maid?" 
"Vm  going  to  publish,  sir,"  she  said. 
"Perhaps  you've  a  fortune,  my  pretty  maid." 
"My  verse  is  my  fortune,  sir,"  she  said. 
"Then  you'd  better  not  try  it,  my  pretty  maid. 
There's  an  item  for  printing,  and  when  it  is  paid 
There's  'commission  on  sales' — 0,  innocent  maid! 
In  your  rural  retreat  have  you  heard  of  the  trade? 
Oh,  where  are  you  going,  my  pretty  maid?** 

— Ernest  Radford  in  "London  Old 
and  New" 

IN  a  preceding  chapter  mention  was  made 
of  "authors'  books" — ^volmnes  the  publica- 
tion of  which  has  been  paid  for  in  part,  or  in  large 
measure,  or  vastly  overpaid  for  by  their  authors. 
What,  as  well  as  the  facts  can  be  assembled,  are 
the  whys  and  wherefores  of  this  matter? 

Two  quite  contrary  attitudes  prevail  toward 
[126] 


PUBLISHING  YOUR  OWN  BOOK 

the  idea  of  an  author's  being  involved  in  the 
financing  of  his  own  work.  On  the  one  hand 
there  is  the  great  army  of  unsophisticated  souls 
so  longing  to  have  something  "published"  in  the 
form  of  a  book  that  many  of  them,  in  their  inno- 
cence of  the  procedure  of  legitimate  publishing, 
readily  fall  the  prey  of  the  unscrupulous  con- 
cerns which  have  come  to  be  called  "vanity  pub- 
lishers." These  nefarious  pay-as-you-enter 
"publishers"  will  be  examined  presently. 

Then  there  is  the  opinion  more  than  a  little 
current  among  people  with  a  closer  view  of  book 
production  that  there  is  something  highly  un- 
ethical, discreditable  to  both  publisher  and  author, 
in  an  author's  having  anything  to  do  with  the  cost 
of  issuing  his  work. 

§  Notable  Examples  of  "Authors^  Books." 

There  are  a  number  of  classic  examples  of 
books  of  a  very  distinguished  character  paid  for 
by  the  authors.  Among  them  Drummond's 
"Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual  World"  and  Mot- 
ley's "The  Rise  of  the  Dutch  Repubhc."  There 
is  a  legend  that  Longfellow  insisted  on  owning 
his  own  books  and  paying  for  the  plates  and  other 
costs    of   manufacture,    though    his    publishers 

[127] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

would  have  been  very  glad  indeed  to  assume  all 
risk  in  the  issuing  of  his  work.  An  edition  of 
"The  Education  of  Henry  Adams"  was  privately 
printed  long  before  consent  was  obtained  by  the 
publishers  to  issue  the  regular  trade  edition. 
Among  others  such  estimable  gentlemen  as  Dr. 
S.  Weir  Mitchell  and  Thomas  Nelson  Page  con- 
fessed some  time  ago  to  bringing  out  volumes 
of  verse  at  their  own  expense.  It  is  understood 
that  Walter  de  la  Mare's  first  volume  was  pri- 
vately printed,  and  that  Stephen  Crane's  "The 
Red  Badge  of  Courage"  was  at  first  a  privately 
printed  book.  That,  certainly,  is  a  fairly  miscel- 
laneous five  foot  shelf  of  authors'  books. 

§  Publishers  Cannot  Take  Big  Risks. 

The  publishing  business,  of  course,  like  any 
other  business,  is  an  occupation  pursued  for  at 
least  reasonable  gain.  Naturally,  the  publisher 
considers  the  financial  possibilities  of  every  manu- 
script submitted  to  him.  The  number  of  books 
which  he  issues  each  year  is  limited  to  the  amount 
of  his  capital.  All  this  would  seem  to  be  ele- 
mentary enough,  and  yet  you  may  find  ever  so 
many  people,  particularly  budding  authors,  who 
apparently  have  little  active  appreciation  of  it. 
[128] 


PUBLISHING  YOUR  OWN  BOOK 

Very  little  indeed  is  the  matter  understood  of 
the  publisher  having  to  balance  his  list.  That  is, 
it  is  necessary  to  bring  out  some  books  which  he 
knows  will  be  popular  for  him  to  be  able  to  pub- 
lish other  books  which  he  is  well  aware  can  have 
no  large  sale.  As  has  been  stated  before  in  the 
pages  of  this  book,  a  first-rate  publisher  every 
now  and  then  takes  on  a  book  in  which  he  sees 
no  opportunity  for  profit,  but  which  he  has  pride 
in  having  on  his  list.  It  goes  without  saying, 
however,  that  that  is  a  luxury  which  must  be 
bridled  if  the  publisher  is  successfully  to  continue 
in  business. 

Now  a  neurologist,  we  will  say,  a  man  eminent 
in  his  specialty,  produces  as  the  result  of  much 
study  a  work  on  the  pathological  aspects  of  some 
writer.  It  is  a  book,  he  is  confident,  which  has 
scientific  value.  He  is  disinterested  as  to  any 
monetary  profit  which  the  book  might  possibly 
bring  him,  but  desires  to  give  it  to  the  small 
portion  of  the  world  interested  in  his  field  of 
thought.  Or  a  university  professor,  it  may  be, 
develops  some  thesis  near  to  his  heart.  He  be- 
lieves that  to  publish  this  in  a  book  would  give 
him  a  higher  status  among  his  colleagues  and 
might  lead  to  advancement  in  his  profession.    In 

[129] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

both  of  these  hypothetical  cases  it  is  most  decid- 
edly to  the  interests  of  the  authors  to  obtain  the 
imprint  of  a  publishing  house  of  established  repu- 
tation. 

§  Whi/  Reputable  Houses  Print  "Authors'  Books.*' 

A  book  is  accepted  by  a  reputable  publisher  to 
be  issued  at  the  author's  expense,  or  partly  at 
his  expense,  when  the  publisher  is  quite  convinced 
that  the  book  is  worthy  to  be  on  his  list,  but  that 
because  of  its  subject  and  treatment,  it  can  ap- 
peal to  a  small  public  only.  Or  (sometimes) 
when  the  author  has  undoubted  talent,  but  is 
inexperienced  and  unknown  and  has  handled 
subjects  supposed  by  the  publisher  to  be  de- 
cidedly unpopular  with  the  general  public. 

A  reputable  publisher,  however,  will  tell  an 
author  at  once  that  undoubtedly  he  is  losing  his 
money  by  publishing  a  book  at  his  own  expense, 
otherwise  he  (the  publisher)  would  take  the  risk 
of  issuing  the  volume.  And  he  will  write  into  the 
contract  royalties  in  just  proportion  to  the 
amount  of  expense  which  the  author  is  assuming. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  publisher  should  not  be 
expected  to  undertake  to  promote  the  sale  of  the 
book  as  vigorously  as  if  it  were  altogether  his  own 
[130] 


PUBLISHING  YOUR  OWN  BOOK 

affair.  He  will  manufacture  it,  announce  it  by 
advertisement,  and  place  it  in  the  hands  of  his 
salesmen.  But  where  the  publisher's  risk  is,  there 
will  be  his  greatest  energy. 

Sometimes  authors  of  considerable  reputation 
and  popularity,  whose  work  would  be  more  than 
welcomed  by  any  publishing  house,  enter  into  an 
arrangement  with  their  publishers  whereby  they 
"put  up"  for  an  amount  of  advertising  greater 
than  the  publishers  could  afford  to  devote  even  to 
them  without  such  an  arrangement.  That  is,  they 
agree  that  a  proportiou'of  their  royalties  shaU  be- 
diverted  to  cover  the  expense  of  additional  adver- 
tising. 

Historically  a  book  copyrighted  in  the  author's 
name  was  an  author's  book.  And  as  the  situation 
stands  today  an  author's  copyright  is  almost  the 
hallmark  of  a  publication  paid  for  by  the  author. 
The  whole  subject  of  book  copyright  is  a  complex 
matter.  Its  intricacies  need  not  detain  us  in  this 
chapter.  Some  authors  insist  on  a  copyright  in 
their  own  name.  The  heads  of  two  of  our  fore- 
most publishing  houses  declared  the  other  day 
that  any  reputable  publisher  will  cheerfully 
transfer  the  copyright  for  a  book  to  the  author. 

[131] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

§  Monumental  Books  Privately  Printed. 

Every  once  in  a  while  one  comes  across  a  very 
handsomely  made  book  that  has  been  "privately 
printed,"  an  example  of  beautiful  workmanship. 
A  book,  perhaps,  which  has  no  public  interest 
whatever.  A  club,  very  likely,  a  literary  society, 
or  an  historical  or  other  association  has  mainly  for 
the  satisfaction  of  its  own  members  wished  to 
issue  a  volume  of  its  history,  a  bibliography  of 
the  works  in  its  domain,  or  a  catalog  of  its  collec- 
tion. Its  object  has  been  in  no  degree  commer- 
cial. Its  aim  has  been  to  achieve  in  its  little 
monument  an  effect  of  elegance  or  an  air  of  dig- 
nity. And  the  commission  for  the  work  having 
been  given  into  the  hands  of  a  "press"  erudite  in 
the  subject  of  format,  a  distinguished  thing  has 
resulted.  Printing  and  publishing  concerns  of 
intellectually  aristocratic  or  gesthetic  character 
( or  pretensions )  not  infrequently  call  themselves 
presses.  At  any  rate,  in  such  a  proceeding,  of 
course,  as  that  just  outlined,  a  thoroughly  digni- 
fied and  honorable  transaction  has  been  con- 
summated. 

In  the  catalogs  of  dealers  in  rare  books,  first 
editions,  "choice"  volumes,  and  so  on,  one  fre- 
[132] 


PUBLISHING  YOUR  OWN  BOOK 

quently  meets  with  "items"  described  as  "pri- 
vately printed,"  generally  volumes  of  verses. 
And  lovely  bibelots  some  of  these  things  are — 
dilettantish  expressions  of  taste.  Such  books  are 
made  by  honest,  sensitive,  sometimes  distin- 
guished artists  in  their  craft.  They  have  been 
engaged  to  do  the  work  by  authors  not  only  suffi- 
ciently sophisticated  to  know  their  way  about  in 
the  book  world,  but  who  as  often  as  not  are 
sesthetic  in  temperament  to  the  point  of  disdain- 
ing to  have  a  book  of  theirs  manufactured  by  a 
"commercial"  pubhsliing  house. 

And  then  one  finds  around  here  and  there  a 
good  many  privately  printed  books  of  another 
class,  volumes  which  make  no  particular  pretense 
to  beauty,  volmnes  oftentimes  of  decidedly  plebe- 
ian effect,  but  for  whose  existence  there  is  per- 
fectly reasonable  justification.  Someone  may 
have  desired  to  have  made  as  a  memorial,  a  book 
of  the  writings  of  a  deceased  relative  or  friend. 
If  the  world  didn't  need  the  book,  neither  did  he 
make  it  for  the  world.  And  if  he  was  over- 
charged for  the  manufacture  of  the  volume,  his 
love  has  been  more  generous  than  he  knows.  Or 
there  may  somewhere  have  been  a  local  demand 
for  a  certain  class  of  literature  which  established 

[133] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

publishing  houses  of  national  scope  could  not  be 
induced  to  supply,  such  as  the  stoiy  of  a  locality's 
traditions  or  incidents  of  its  development.  Such 
pieces  of  book  making  frequently  are  very  pat- 
ently the  honest  but  sadly  homely  product  of  the 
local  job  printer.  "Printed  at  the  'Journal' 
Office"  is  not  a  lofty,  but  a  perfectly  respectable 
imprint.  And  it  frankly  implies  that  nobody  has 
been  "stung." 

§  ^'Vanity  Publishers"  Prey  Upon  the  Ignorant. 

Quite  another  matter  we  come  to  now;  and  a 
matter  very  carefully  to  be  examined  by  the 
author  striving  to  publish  his  first  book.  Mar- 
garet Deland,  on  joining  the  Authors'  League  of 
America  in  1913,  wrote,  in  a  letter  to  the  league: 
"I  admit  that  there  are  dishonest  publishers,  just 

as  there  are  possibly possibly! dishonest 

authors;  but  I,  personally,  have  never  met  any. 
My  experience  of  some  twenty-five  years  has 
brought  me  in  contact  only  with  a  set  of  very 
high-minded,  very  honorable,  and  even  generous 
men."  Mrs.  Deland  had  no  temptation  toward 
any  but  the  first-rate  sort  of  publishing  house. 
In  that  same  year,  in  an  article  in  "The  Atlantic" 
George  Piatt  Brett,  president  of  the  Macmillan 
[134] 


PUBLISHING  YOUR  OWN  BOOK 

Company,  referred  to  "those  unscrupulous  and 
dishonest  publishers  which  have  been  a  disgrace 
to  the  trade  at  times."  The  number  of  such 
pseudo-publishers  has  not  grown  less  since  then. 
And  the  number  of  their  victims  undoubtedly  has 
steadily  and  greatly  increased.  A  recent  issue  of 
a  little  magazine  published  in  Chicago  and  inter- 
ested in  "private  book  production"  asserts  that 
the  volume  of  privately  published  books  put  out 
each  year  is  enormous. 

Unfortunately  the  unknown  author  frequently 
"would  give  anything  in  the  world"  to  have  his 
book  published,  is  willing  to  make  almost  any 
sacrifice.  He  will  not  take  No  from  those  callous 
big  publishing  houses.  He  begins  to  conceive  the 
notion  that  their  main  idea  is  to  get  out  of  pub- 
lishing the  manuscripts  sent  to  them.  Whereas, 
of  course,  they  are  just  as  eager  to  get  something 
to  publish  as  he  is  to  have  his  own  book  published. 
And  then,  indeed,  do  not  the  pubHshers  nearly  all 
admit  themselves  that  his  work  has  much  merit? 
Mention  has  been  made  more  than  once  in  this 
book  of  the  dangers  to  the  unsophisticated  writer 
of  misinterpreting  the  usual  rejection  slips  of 
legitimate  publishers.     Their  soft-soap  wording 

[135] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

does  much,  alas !  to  pave  the  way  for  the  business 
of  pickpocket  and  holdup  publishing. 

§  What  **Co7ne  on'*  Letters  Lead  To. 

The  author  we  now  have  in  our  eye  is  an  incon- 
spicuous person  who  may  have  been  fortunate 
enough  (or  unfortunate  enough)  to  sell  perhaps 
one  story  or  one  poem  to  some  minor  magazine. 
He  receives  right  out  of  the  sky,  so  to  say,  what 
among  the  informed  in  these  matters  is  known  as 
a  *'come  on"  letter.  Under  an  impressive  letter 
head,  terminating  in  the  word  "Publisher,"  he 
(addressed  by  name)  is  told  that  this  company 
is  "on  the  lookout  for  a  few  unusually  good  book 
manuscripts  to  add  to  our  winter  list."  Further, 
something  like  this: 

We  shall  therefore  be  glad  to  examine  any- 
thing that  you  may  care  to  submit  at  this  time. 

Our  readers  will  report  promptly  on  whatever 
manuscripts  j^ou  may  offer  and  we  trust  we  may 
soon  have  the  pleasure  of  receiving  some  of  your 
work  for  consideration. 

Beneath  the  signature  is  typed  "Editorial  De- 
partment."    Our  much  rejected  author  is  enor- 
mously flattered.     He  sends  on  his  manuscript 
book.    Negotiations  may  proceed  in  any  one  of  a 
[136] 


PUBLISHING  YOUR  OWN  BOOK 

number  of  ways.  Let  us  follow  through  one  of 
them  which,  as  the  August,  1915,  issue  of  the 
"Bulletin"  of  the  Authors'  League  observes, 
"illustrates  strikingly  the  patience  with  which  the 
iniquitous  publisher  stalks  his  prey." 

§  "Liberal  Offers"  and  Modifications. 

The  author  has  submitted  his  manuscript  with 
a  view  to  securing  publication  at  the  publisher's 
expense.  As  usual  in  such  cases,  the  firm  writes 
him  to  this  effect:  "Our  readers  have  reported 
favorably  on  'Hills  and  Dales'  and  they  have 
recommended  its  publication."  But  for  one  rea- 
son or  another  the  firm  cannot  undertake  to  pub- 
lish the  book  at  its  own  expense.  Probably: 
"Conditions  in  the  book  market  at  present  are 
such  that  it  is  impossible  to  offer  you  any  terms 
that  would  not  involve  some  advance  on  your 
part."  But:  "Please  do  not  take  this  as  being  in 
any  way  a  reflection  on  the  merits  of  your  manu- 
script from  a  literary  standpoint."  Then  "an 
extremely  liberal  offer"  is  made  to  publish  at  the 
author's  expense.  In  "The  Pubhshers'  Weekly" 
for  August  27,  1921,  appeared  a  list  that  had 
recently  been  compiled  of  book  production  costs 
made  for  the  head  of  a  large  publishing  house  to 

[137] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

serve  as  a  guide  in  estimating  the  relation  of 
figures  of  that  time  to  those  of  five  years  before. 
These  figures,  available  to  anyone,  prove  exactly 
how  outrageous  are  the  "liberal  offers"  of  the 
"come  on"  publishers. 

The  terms  proposed  happen  to  be  beyond  the 
reach  of  this  author.  It  is  not  long  before  he 
receives  another  letter.  The  editorial  department 
is  "very  much  interested"  in  his  work  (or  some- 
thing like  that)  and  is  "therefore  trying  to  induce 
our  business  manager  to  offer  you  the  following 
modification  in  our  terms."  The  modified  terms 
are  remarkable.  They  are  apt  to  provide  that  the 
author  may  pay  his  eight  or  nine  hundrd  dollars 
in  instalments  covering  a  period  of  say  five 
months.  He  is,  perhaps,  to  receive  the  "total 
proceeds"  from  the  sale  of  the  first  five  hundred 
copies  of  the  book.  As  additional  inducements 
he  is  likely  to  be  offered  twenty-five  copies  free, 
to  be  relieved  of  the  expense  of  copyrighting 
(something  like  a  dollar  and  a  half),  and  the 
publisher  sometimes  is  even  willing  to  prepare  at 
his  own  expense  "a  special  cover  to  consist  of  a 
fine  illustration." 

Numerous  devices  are  employed  by  the  "vanity 
publisher"  to  lead  the  innocent  author  on  toward 
[138] 


PUBLISHING  YOUR  OWN  BOOK 

becoming  famous  in  his  own  eyes  and  those  of 
his  friends.  Sometimes  "a  fine  descriptive 
Folder"  is  proposed,  to  contain  "an  Order  Blank 
to  be  circulated  among  bookbuyers,  dealers,  job- 
bers and  also  to  lists  of  your  personal  friends  (to 
be  supplied  by  you) ."  This  folder  will  be  "beau- 
tifully printed  (see  sample  enclosed)."  And: 
"You  will  therefore  kindly  send  us  at  once  a  brief 
synopsis  of  your  book  in  your  own  words  (to  be 
elaborated  and  perfected  by  our  editors) ,  enclos- 
ing also  your  photograph  if  you  wish  it  used; 
together  with  the  remittance  named,  and  we  will 
go  ahead  full  speed."  Nothing  is  said  to  indicate 
that  the  circular  in  question  is  to  be  devoted 
exclusively  to  the  author's  book. 

§  Suggestions  of  Large  Profits. 

The  "come  on"  publisher  lures  his  prey  with 
suggestions  of  large  profits — ambitious  and  in- 
experienced writers  are  invited  to  take  advantage 
of.a  great  opportunity.  His  lingo,  altered  to  per- 
tain to  various  forms  of  current  literature,  is  that 
of  the  wild  cat  operator  in  oil  or  undeveloped 
mineral  deposits.  He  knows  that  the  book  he 
obtains,  in  point  of  fact,  can  have  no  popularity. 
What  incentive  is  there  for  him  ever  to  market 

[139] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

a  single  copy?  The  money  put  up  by  the  author 
pays  for  the  printing  and  binding  of  the  book, 
with  a  handsome  profit  to  the  publisher,  even  if  it 
never  leaves  his  cellar.  The  author  receives  a 
number  of  copies,  and  possibly  a  few  are  offered 
for  review.  The  only  sales  of  the  book  are  made 
through  the  author's  own  efforts.  And  there  the 
matter  ends. 

§  Ironclad  Contracts  Protect  the  Dishonest  Publisher. 

The  contracts  of  publishers  of  this  class 
usually  are  ironclad  (always  against  the  interests 
of  the  author).  Care  is  taken  to  avoid  absolute 
misrepresentation  of  fact.  And  the  author  finds 
himself,  at  the  end,  not  only  very  much  out  of 
pocket,  but  disappointed,  disheartened,  and  with- 
out any  remedy  at  law.  Where  a  written  con- 
tract is  made  the  author's  rights  are  strictly 
limited  to  the  promises  the  publishers  set  forth  in 
the  contract.  Antecedent  or  contemporaneous 
promises  or  predictions  form  no  part  of  the  agree- 
ment ;  nor  do  the  circulars  and  advertisements  of 
the  publishers. 

Once  in  a  blue  moon  a  flimflam  publisher  gets 
hold  of  a  book  which  turns  out  to  be  a  real  "find." 
There  was  a  notable  case  in  1909.  An  author 
[140] 


PUBLISHING  YOUR  OWN  BOOK 

paid  a  "come  on"  concern  to  publish  a  book 
which  became  surprisingly  popular.  A  well- 
known  magazine  editor  in  New  York,  at  that 
time  literary  editor  of  a  Chicago  newspaper,  took 
a  special  interest  in  the  author,  and  suggested 
to  him  that  he  buy  in  the  rights  from  the  pub- 
lisher and  have  a  reputable  firm  publish  a  new 
edition  of  the  book.  The  author,  before  the  ter- 
mination of  negotiations  in  the  matter,  offered 
as  much  as  several  thousand  dollars  more  than 
several  thousand  dollars,  for  the  rights  to  the 
book  which  had  cost  the  publisher  nothing — and 
the  publisher  refused  to  sell  them. 

Sometimes  the  "come  on"  publisher  elaborately 
disguises  his  game.  In  1919  a  good  many  uncyn- 
ical  authors  were  favored  with  a  most  plausible 
sounding  circular,  which  beguilingly  set  forth  the 
gi-eat  advantages  to  "the  young  writer,  with  his 
first  acceptance,  as  well  as  to  the  veteran  author," 
of  avoiding  the  meagre  royalties  of  the  average 
publishing  house  and  of  enjoying  "fully  half  the 
profits  derived  from  the  sales."  The  circular  of 
this  company  stated  that  "the  entire  expense  of 
pubhcation  is  borne  by  us,"  that  they  had 
"financed  the  publication  of  more  than  one 
hundred  volumes  by  obscure  authors,"  that  "the 

[141] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

authors  paid  us  nothing  to  effect  the  publication 
of  these  books."  In  fact,  they  protested  too  much 
for  any  but  the  most  unwary  who,  however,  found 
when  it  came  to  signing  the  contract  that  "half 
the  profits"  was  contingent  upon  a  prepayment 
of  an  alleged  half  of  the  cost.  Then  there  were 
seldom,  if  ever,  any  profits  to  divide — with  the 
author.  In  short,  again  the  publisher  made  his 
money  out  of  the  author,  instead  of  the  reader. 
That  is  one  example  of  the  "co-operative"  plan  of 
publishing. 

§  Other  Schemes  for  Co-operative  Publishing. 

In  that  case  the  author  could  have  the  happi- 
ness of  buying  his  own  book.  At  about  that  time 
there  was  another  pseudo-publisher  who  merely 
"accepted"  the  manuscripts  of  would-be  authors 
(not  to  speak  of  their  checks)  and  then  wrote 
wonderful  letters  of  explanation  in  lieu  of  print- 
ing the  books.  But  it  came  about  that  he  went 
out  of  business.  Another  interesting  idea  in  co- 
operative publishing  came  out  of  Bridgeport, 
Connecticut,  a  couple  of  years  ago.  A  sale  of 
shares  of  capital  stock  in  the  company  to  authors 
or  prospective  authors  was  proposed.  The  pros- 
pectus stated  that  this  scheme  provided  "an  open 
[142] 


PUBLISHING  YOUR  OWN  BOOK 

door  to  the  world  of  letters  and  secured  an  unob- 
structed avenue  to  the  universe  of  thought." 
Also  that  the  "benefits  offered  to  new  authors 
amount  to  salvation." 

A  curiously  in-and-out  sort  of  fly-by-night 
publishing  enterprise  cropped  up  a  few  years  ago. 
In  the  classified  columns  of  a  regular  magazine 
was  placed  this  advertisement:  "Wanted — 
Short  Stories,  Articles,  Poems  for  new  magazine. 
We  pay  on  acceptance;  offers  submitted.  Send 
prepaid  with  return  postage.  Handwritten  mss. 
acceptable." 

Then  followed  an  address.  The  story  of  what 
happened  when  an  author  sent  a  manuscript  in 
response  to  this  advertisement  was  told  in  "The 
Writer,"  the  Boston  magazine  for  literary  work- 
ers, issue  of  (or  near)  March,  1919.  Briefly  it 
was  this.  The  author  received  a  letter  from  the 
"Mgr.  Mss.  Dept."  of  the  magazine.  Across  the 
top  of  the  stationery  was  spread  as  the  several 
addresses  of  the  magazine:  "New  York — Lon- 
don— Washington."  Headquarters  appeared  to 
be  in  Washington.  The  telephone  of  the  "Edi- 
torial Rooms"  in  that  city  was  listed  as  one  num- 
ber; that  of  the  "General  Offices"  as  another. 

The  writer  of  the  letter  said  that  "while  this  is 

[143] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

not  suited  to  our  magazine,  I  am  not  sending  it 
back  with  the  usual  rejection  slip."  He  hoped 
the  author  would  not  think  it  "too  presumptu- 
ous" for  him  to  "offer  a  suggestion."  This  was 
that  he  "edit"  the  manuscript,  and  for  a  small  fee, 
to  "help  cover  expenses,"  aid  the  author  in  plac- 
ing it  "with  a  number  of  publications  whom  I 
know  have  purchased  a  similar  type  of  MS.  in 
the  past."  He  delicately  implied  that  the  manu- 
script might  be  sold  for  more  than  twenty  dollars, 
in  which  case  he  would  expect  a  ten  per  cent, 
commission. 

The  upshot  of  the  matter  turned  out  to  be  that 
the  "Mgr.  Mss.  Dept."  of  this  magazine  was 
working  under  a  string  of  addresses  in  some  half 
dozen  cities  as  magazine  editor,  literary  agent, 
and  book  publisher,  doing  business  back  and  forth 
with  himself.  His  so-called  magazines,  four  in 
number,  were  used  as  "feeders"  to  entice  to  the 
book  publishing  counter  "prospects"  who  had  not 
been  caught  by  the  out-and-out  bids  to  aspiring 
writers  of  books.  Of  practical  experience  in  book 
publishing  it  was  shown  he  had  none.  The  tele- 
phone companies  in  several  of  the  cities  where  he 
represented  himself  as  having  offices  knew  him 
not.  On  the  stationery  of  one  of  his  enterprises 
[144] 


PUBLISHING  YOUR  OWN  BOOK 

he  listed  an  array  of  distinguished  "references," 
authors  of  note.  When  communicated  with  by 
the  Authors'  League  as  to  the  matter  these 
gentlemen  each  and  all  replied  that  they  had 
never  heard  of  the  fellow. 

This  young  man's  meteoric  career  was  unfeel- 
ingly cut  short  by  the  Postmaster  General. 
Every  now  and  then  one  of  these  bogus  publishers 
actually  violates  the  law.  In  his  eagerness  he 
oversteps  the  line  and  flatly  procures  money 
under  false  pretenses.  Others  more  cautiously 
keep  inside  that  line  and  do  far  more  harm. 

There  has  been  no  intention  whatever  in  this 
chapter  of  implying  that  the  only  publishing 
houses  with  which  it  is  safe  and  desirable  for  an 
author  to  deal  are  the  great  publishing  houses  of 
long  established  position.  Indeed,  there  are 
sometimes  reasons  why  it  is  an  advantage  for  an 
author  to  have  his  book  in  the  hands  of  a  house 
with  a  relatively  small  list.  And  because  a  pub- 
lishing house  is  young  certainly  is  no  reason  why 
it  may  not  be  an  excellent  one.  But  when  a  pub- 
lisher is  reputable  this  can  readily  be  ascertained. 

The  "moral"  is,  when  publishing  a  book  at  your 
own  expense,  watch  your  step. 

[145] 


VII 

MAEKETING  AND  PUBLISHING  PLAYS 

MARKETING  the  manuscript  of  a  play  is 
quite  a  different  job  from  marketing  the 
manuscript  of  a  work  of  fiction.  In  the  first 
place,  book  publishers  encourage  all  writers  to 
submit  manuscripts,  and  assure  them  that  their 
work  will  receive  careful  attention.  We  have 
seen  in  other  chapters  of  this  book  how  book 
publishers  employ  a  staff  for  the  very  purpose 
of  reading  solicited  and  unsolicited  manuscripts. 
Theatrical  producers  do  not  encourage  all  and 
sundry  to  submit  plays.  In  fact  a  number  of 
producers  refuse  positively  to  look  at  an  unso- 
licited play  manuscript.  ]Most  play  producers 
apparently  have  a  pretty  good  idea  of  just  what 
they  want.  Instead  of  searching  through  a  mass 
of  solicited  and  unsolicited  material  with  the 
hope  of  finding  something  for  their  purpose,  they 
are  likely  to  order  what  they  want  from  play- 
wrights who  they  believe  can  supply  it. 
[146] 


MARKETING  PLAYS 

But  there  is  no  lack  of  demand  for  plays. 
"There  is  a  greater  demand  for  plays  today  than 
ever  before,"  declared  one  manager  the  other 
day;  and  a  play  broker  said:  "The  managers, 
every  one,  are  eager  for  good  plays."  In  spite 
of  this,  the  managers  undoubtedly  make  it  hard 
for  the  unknown  playwright  to  have  his  play 
read. 

§  Treatment  Accorded  Play  Manuscripts. 

A  director  recentlj^  was  heard  to  say  that  it  is 
no  unusual  thing  for  unsolicited  manuscripts  to 
knock  around  the  average  manager's  office  for 
months  without  receiving  the  slightest  attention. 
The  story  goes  that  Sardou's  first  produced  play, 
"The  Students'  Tavern,"  received  its  reading  be- 
cause the  manager  of  the  Odeon,  on  leaving  the 
theatre  with  the  leading  actress,  happened  to  turn 
over  the  heap  of  plays  awaiting  reading  in  his 
office.  The  actress  got  a  glimpse  of  Sardou's 
neat,  clear  handwriting  and  it  attracted  her  atten- 
tion immediately.  She  picked  up  the  manuscript 
and  read  it. 

One  reason  why  managers  hesitate  to  encour- 
age the  sending  in  of  plays  is  because  of  law- 
suits.    An  inexperienced  writer  will  submit  a 

[147] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

manuscript  to  a  certain  manager.  Some  months 
later  the  writer  will  receive  liis  manuscript  back 
with  a  rejection  slip.  Three  or  four  years  later 
the  writer  will  see  a  play  produced  by  this  same 
manager.  The  play  will  have  a  theme,  or  a  scene, 
something  similar  to  the  play  the  writer  sub- 
mitted and  had  rejected.  The  wi'iter  jumps  to 
the  conclusion  that  the  manager  stole  his  play 
during  the  months  in  which  he  was  supposed  to 
be  considering  it.  The  writer  then  proceeds  to 
take  the  matter  into  the  courts. 

Of  course,  there  have  been  times  when  man- 
agers have  actually  stolen  plots  in  this  manner. 
But  such  a  thing  rarely  happens  today,  certainly 
never  in  a  reputable  theatrical  manager's  office. 
Yet  it  is  surprising  to  learn  of  the  number  of 
lawsuits  that  are  still  brought  against  managers 
by  unknown  writers  who  have  submitted  unso- 
licited play  manuscripts.  Every  writer  of  plays 
should  remember  that  in  order  to  prove  that  a 
manager  has  taken  his  plot,  he  must  prove  that 
the  manager  has  actually  read  the  play. 

§  Submitting  Plays  Direct  to  Managers. 

What  are  the  various  methods  of  submitting 
play  manuscripts?     First:  direct  to  managers. 
[148] 


MARKETING  PLAYS 

The  only  way  to  submit  a  play  to  a  manager 
would  seem  to  be  to  obtain  an  introduction  to  one. 
It  should  be  a  real,  honest -to-goodness  introduc- 
tion from  some  one  who  knows  the  manager  per- 
sonally. The  author  should  tell  the  manager  his 
story,  who  he  is,  what  he  has  done,  what  his  play 
is  about,  why  he  believes  this  manager  above  all 
others  will  be  interested  in  the  play,  and  so  on. 
And  then  ask  him  whether  or  not  he  would  care 
to  read  the  play.  If  the  manager  says  yes,  it  is 
highly  probable  that  he  will  read  it  himself,  al- 
though he  may  turn  it  over  to  one  of  his  profes- 
sional readers  first.  If  he  says  no,  he  will  prob- 
ably tell  the  author  quite  frankly  why  he  is  not 
interested.  One  finds  that  the  theatrical  man- 
agers and  producers  are  more  frank  with  their 
authors  than  are  editors  and  publishers. 

Or,  the  author  may  write  to  a  manager  and  tell 
him  about  himself,  the  theme  of  his  play,  how  he 
happened  to  write  it,  why  he  believes  it  will  ap- 
peal to  the  manager,  and  ask  him  if  he  may  sub- 
mit it.  The  author  should  be  sure  to  state  the 
theme  of  his  play,  the  number  of  acts  and  scenes, 
the  size  of  the  cast,  and  the  length  of  time  it 
requires  for  acting. 

[149] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

To  send  in  to  a  manager  the  manuscript  of  a 
play  unsolicited  is  a  rather  hopeless  proceeding. 

§  Play  Brokers  and  Their  Methods. 

Play  brokers  manage  their  business  in  very 
much  the  same  way  as  literary  agents,  some  of 
them  charging  various  fees  for  reading,  typing, 
criticising,  or  revising  play  manuscripts  while 
others  are  paid  a  certain  percentage  of  the  royal- 
ty received  on  the  plays  which  they  actually  sell. 
Many  of  the  best  known  literary  agencies  have 
"play  departments"  that  handle  the  dramatic 
rights  to  the  novels,  short  stories,  and  other  works 
of  their  clients.  As  a  general  rule  the  larger 
play  brokers  and  play  departments  of  literary 
agencies  hesitate  to  consider  play  manuscripts 
from  inexperienced  writers.  One  play  broker 
made  the  statement  that  of  six  hundred  plays  re- 
ceived in  the  course  of  a  year  perhaps  ten,  not 
more,  were  kept  for  circulation  among  managers 
and  producers. 

It  is  the  play  brokers  business  to  keep  in  close 
touch  with  the  needs  and  plans  of  the  various 
managers  and  leading  actors,  and  frequently  a 
manager  will  ask  a  broker  to  assist  him  in  finding 
a  particular  kind  of  play  which  he  is  desirous  ot 
[150] 


MARKETING  PLAYS 

producing.  It  may  be  well  to  state  that  there  are, 
of  course,  some  dishonest  play  brokers.  Against 
these  the  inexperienced  playwright  should  be 
warned. 

§  Actors  as  MSS.  Readers. 

Plays  may  be  submitted  to  leading  actors  in 
the  same  manner  as  they  are  submitted  to  man- 
agers— at  a  personal  meeting,  after  first  writing 
for  permission  to  submit  the  manuscript,  and  un- 
solicited. But  the  playwright  should  be  con- 
vinced that  his  play  is  particularly  well  suited  for 
the  actor  to  whom  he  submits  it.  He  should  be 
familiar  with  the  plays  in  which  the  actor  has 
appeared,  and  he  should  have  seen  and  studied 
the  actor's  technique.  An  excellent  example  of 
the  kind  of  letter  not  to  write  an  actor  when  sub- 
mitting a  play  follows.  It  was  written  by  a 
young  woman  who  had  spent  several  years  of 
work  with  a  correspondence  school  course  for 
playwrights.  The  play  was  her  first  finished 
production.  She  wrote:  "I  have  never  been  out- 
side of  Blanktown  and  as  we  have  no  theatre  here 
I  have  never  witnessed  a  professional  play. 
However,  I  know  I  have  the  dramatic  sense  and 
a  creative  imagination,  and  I  believe  my  past  two 

[151] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

years  of  study  has  brought  me  up  to  the  point 
where  I  am  capable  of  turning  out  acceptable 
material.  Of  course,  I  have  never  seen  you  act 
and  I  am  not  sure  that  my  play,  'Steeple 
Johnnie,'  is  just  the  kind  of  thing  you  do ;  but  I 
am  sure  you  will  read  the  play  and  then  perhaps 
recommend  it  to  some  one  you  know  to  be  looking 
for  this  sort  of  thing." 

If  one  is  not  accustomed  to  see  professional 
productions  in  the  theatre  the  chances  very 
greatly  are  that  he  will  never  write  successful 
plays.  Unless,  of  course,  he  is  a  genius.  In 
theatrical  circles  it  is  everywhere  agreed  that  it  is 
necessary  for  one  to  have  some  first  class  knowl- 
edge of  the  theatre  in  order  to  write  a  real  play. 
Although,  it  might  be  mentioned,  there  is  a  tend- 
ency not  to  place  extreme  emphasis  upon  the  idea 
of  technique.  One  of  the  best  established  play 
brokers  in  New  York  holds  that  every  successful 
play  recently  produced  here  has  broken  at  least 
three  of  the  recognized  rules  of  technique. 

§  Theater  Guilds  and  Amateur  Productions. 

A  fourth  way  in  which  plays  are  submitted  is 
to  amateur  organizations  and  professional  guilds, 
such  as  The  Theatre  Guild,  The  Inter-Theatre 
[152] 


MARKETING  PLAYS 

Arts,  Incorporated;  The  Provincetown  Players, 
and  other  such  bodies.  One  is  required  to  be  a 
member  of  some  of  these  organizations  in  order 
to  submit  his  plays  to  them. 

A  procedure  not  uncommonly  employed  is  for 
the  author  with  no  foothold  in  the  professional 
theatre  to  produce  his  play  himself.  This  is  a 
method  very  uncertain  of  wider  results.  How- 
ever, if  you  have  a  play  and  do  not  know  what  to 
do  with  it,  being  unable,  for  one  reason  or 
another,  to  place  it  by  means  of  one  of  the  four 
other  methods,  the  course  is  open  to  you  to  or- 
ganize an  amateur  company  of  your  own  to  give 
a  performance  of  the  play  in  your  own  or  a  near- 
by city.  Your  city  or  town  may  already  have  a 
dramatic  club,  in  which  case  it  would  be  well  for 
you  to  first  ask  this  organization  to  present  the 
play.  The  newspaper  reviews  of  the  production 
may  then  be  sent  out  to  various  managers  and 
actors  with  a  letter  asking  them  if  they  would 
care  to  read  the  play  manuscript. 

The  trouble  with  this  method  as  a  plan  for 
carrying  a  play  to  the  established  theatre  is  that 
the  local  newspapers  are,  as  a  rule,  far  too  effu- 
sive in  praising  amateur  productions  and  local 
"playwrights."    Their  comments  are  apt  to  be  so 

[153] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

exceedingly  eulogistic  that  they  won't   "mean 
anything"  to  a  manager  or  an  experienced  actor. 

§  Cost  of  Putting  On  Plays. 

Before  submitting  a  play  manuscript  the 
author  should  have  some  idea  of  the  situation  with 
which  a  manager  is  confronted.  In  the  first 
place,  the  producer  must  invest  a  sum  ranging 
anywhere  from  $10,000  upward  in  each  play  that 
he  presents.  As  much  as  $25,000  would  not  mis- 
state the  amount  frequently  invested.  He  con- 
siders, therefore,  that  he  must  feel  reasonably 
sure  that  the  plays  that  he  accepts  are  worth,  in 
box  office  receipts,  at  least  $10,000  a  week. 

These  figures  make  an  interesting  comparison 
with  the  expenses  of  book  publishing.  A  book 
publisher  can  finance  a  book  on  from  $500  to 
$1,000.  If  from  three  to  five  thousand  people 
buy  a  book,  the  book  will  just  about  pay  for  it- 
self; but  it  is  not  unreasonable  to  suppose  that 
more  than  15,000  people  must  buy  tickets  for  a 
play  before  the  producer  recovers  his  original  in- 
vestment. 

The  cost  of  putting  a  play  "on"  today  has 
greatly  increased.  Royalties,  one  gathers,  have 
decreased  in  the  past  four  years;  but  wages  in 
[154] 


MARKETING  PLAYS 

connection  with  the  theatre  are  in  some  cases 
double  those  of  five  years  ago,  transportation 
charges  for  scenery,  and  what  not,  are  almost 
prohibitive.  Add  to  these  matters  a  considera- 
tion of  the  salaries  of  the  actors  and  actresses, 
the  cost  of  the  scenery,  costumes  and  properties, 
the  advertising,  rent  of  the  theatre,  and  the  like, 
and  one  can  come  near  to  appreciating  the  risk 
of  play  producing.  A  play  that  demands  elabo- 
rate scenery,  costumes  and  stage  effects,  has 
practically  no  chance  of  acceptance  today  unless 
it  has  been  ordered  for  some  particular  theatre 
like  the  Hippodrome  or  for  some  particular  pur- 
pose. Even  the  Hippodrome  productions  are 
far  less  elaborate  than  they  were  four  years  ago. 

§  Number  of  Yearly  Productions. 

Another  thing  to  be  considered  in  contemplat- 
ing the  career  of  a  playwright  is  the  number  of 
plays  produced.  Aside  from  all  the  short  stories, 
novelettes  and  novels  that  are  published  in  the 
magazines  and  newspapers,  between  six  and  ten 
thousand  books  are  published  in  a  single  year  in 
the  United  States.  The  total  number  of  plays 
produced  in  New  York  City  in  a  single  years  is 
not  over  two  hundred  and  fifty.    Perhaps  in  all 

[155] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

the  United  States  four  or  five  hundred  plays  are 
produced  in  a  year;  certainly  not  more. 

In  one  of  Mr.  Tarkington's  recently  published 
stories  a  young  plaj^wright  comes  to  feel  that 
everyone  connected  with  the  production  of  his 
play  has  had  more  of  a  hand  in  its  authorship 
than  he  had.  It  is,  of  course,  true  that  managers, 
in  their  eagerness  to  get  just  the  things  they  con- 
sider right,  will  often  accept  a  play  and  then  pay 
out  considerable  sums  of  money  to  have  it  edited 
and  put  into  shape.  An  observation  sometimes 
heard  is  that  no  "first  plays"  are  produced  ex- 
actly as  they  were  written. 

A  play  may  be  edited  and  changed  before  it 
goes  into  rehearsals.  Whether  it  is  or  not,  it  will 
in  all  likehhood  be  changed  in  many  respects  dur- 
ing rehearsal.  Excisions,  additions,  interpola- 
tions, are  made  by  the  manager,  the  stage  direc- 
tor, by  the  stars,  and  sometimes  at  the  suggestion 
of  the  other  actors.  Experienced  playwrights 
are  sometimes  called  in  to  help  whip  a  first  play 
into  shape.  When  a  play  by  an  experienced 
playwright  goes  into  rehearsals  the  changes  are 
usually  made  by  the  author,  although  in  many 
instances  at  the  suggestion  of  the  manager, 
director,  or  star. 
[156] 


MARKETING  PLAYS 

§  The  Playwrighf s  Royalty  and  Contract. 

Plays  should  never  be  sold  outright.  They  are 
usually  produced  on  a  royalty  basis.  The  author 
is  paid  a  cash  bonus  as  advance  royalty,  when  the 
manuscript  is  accepted.  He  then  receives  a  per- 
centage of  the  gross  box-office  receipts.  This 
percentage  varies  in  accordance  with  the  reputa- 
tion of  the  playwiight  and  the  amount  of  capital 
at  the  disposal  of  the  producer. 

The  producer,  when  he  accepts  the  manuscript, 
agrees  to  produce  the  play  before  a  certain  date, 
say  within  six  months  after  the  contract  is  signed. 
If  the  manager  fails  to  produce  the  play  by  the 
date  specified  the  author  regains  control  of  all 
rights  to  the  play.  This  is  an  important  part  of 
the  contract.  Many  good  plays  have  been  bought 
by  managers  simply  to  keep  them  out  of  the 
hands  of  rival  managers  and  they  have  never  been 
produced.  Also,  the  producer  agrees  to  produce 
the  play  for  a  certain  period  each  year  after  the 
first  performance.  If  he  fails  to  do  this  the 
agreement  may  be  considered  at  an  end  and  the 
rights  to  the  play  are  returned  to  the  author. 

The  author's  royalty  may  be  anywhere  from 
two  to  ten  per  cent,  of  the  gross  receipts  during 

[157] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

the  play's  run.  The  author  should  insist  upon  a 
percentage  of  the  gross  receipts  and  not  of  the 
net  receipts.  A  fair  royalty  would  be  five  per 
cent,  of  the  first  $5,000  receipts  and  ten  per  cent, 
of  an}i;hing  over  that  amount.  The  English 
rights  to  a  play  by  an  American  playwright  were 
contracted  for  the  other  day  on  the  following 
royalty  basis: 

5      %   of  the  first  i$5,000  gross  receipts. 

7^%   of  the  next  $1,000  gross   receipts. 

10      %   of  all    over  $6,000  gross  receipts. 

One  other  way  of  getting  a  play  before  the 
public  and  attracting  to  it  the  attention  of  pro- 
ducers is  by  having  it  published.  The  attitude  of 
book  publishers  today  toward  plays  we'll  come  to 
presently.  Some  magazines  publish  a  one  act 
play  in  every  issue.  The  play  manuscript  is  sub- 
mitted to  magazine  editors  and  book  publishers 
in  the  regular  manner,  described  in  the  preceding 
chapters.  If  it  is  accepted  and  published,  play 
producers  and  managers  will  probably  see  some 
notices  of  it,  which,  if  they  are  favorable,  may 
entice  the  producers  and  managers  to  get  a  copy 
of  the  play  and  read  it.  Free  copies  may  be  sent 
by  the  author  to  managers  and  actors  who  he 
[1.581 


MARKETING  PLAYS 

thinks  might  be  interested  in  the  play.  "He  Who 
Gets  Slapped"  was  pubhshed  in  "The  Dial."  In 
this  way  it  was  brought  to  the  attention  of  The 
Theatre  Guild. 

§  No  Demand  for  ''Closet  Dramas.'* 

Some  plays,  known  as  "closet  dramas,"  are 
written  expressly  for  magazine  and  book  publi- 
cation. Sir  Adolphus  William  Ward  said  of 
these  "literary  plays" :  Though  the  term  literary 
drama  is  sometimes  used  of  works  kept  apart 
from  the  stage,  it  is  in  truth  a  misnomer,  since, 
properly  speaking,  no  drama  is  such  until  it  is 
acted."  If  you  want  your  play  produced  write 
it  to  be  acted  and  not  simply  to  be  published. 
That  is  the  "word"  of  the  manager,  the  actor  and 
the  play  broker.  A  drama  to  be  a  drama  must 
be  acted.  Another  suggestion :  if  your  plays  can- 
not be  acted,  don't  write  plays;  try  stories.  Un- 
actable plays,  now  and  then,  have  been  found  to 
make  excellent  stories. 

A  story  is  current  of  a  play  which  the  author 
could  get  no  manager  interested  in,  while  it  was 
in  the  form  of  a  play  manuscript.  He  recast  his 
material  in  the  form  of  a  story,  and  had  it  ac- 
cepted by  a  magazine.    Here  its  "dramatic  pos- 

[159] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

sibilities"  enlisted  the  attention  of  a  theatrical 
producer.  The  story  was  re-written  for  the  stage, 
and  as  a  play  attained  notable  success. 

Authors  seeking  to  publish  plays  in  book  form 
should  note,  by  an  examination  of  the  lists  of 
various  publishing  houses,  that  some  publishers, 
a  few,  are  much  m.ore  interested  in  volumes  of 
this  character  than  are  the  others.  Those,  nat- 
urally, are  the  ones  first  to  be  approached. 

§  Publishing  Plays. 

The  attitude  at  present  of  book  publishers 
toward  plays,  as  expressed  by  several  of  those 
most  concerned  with  the  matter,  seems  to  be  this : 
Closet  plays  are  not  any  longer  wanted.  If  a 
play  is  not  written  to  be  produced  the  author  has 
little  chance  of  seeing  it  published.  Generally 
publishers  do  not  want  full-length  plays — plays 
occupying  an  evening — unless  they  are  by  au- 
thors already  well  established.  And  such  authors 
not  infrequently,  as  in  the  cases  of  Galsworthy 
and  Barrie,  have  become  established  through 
works  in  other  fields. 

After  a  play  has  had  a  successful  stage  produc- 
tion— run  .at  least  two  months — the  author  may 
offer  it  to  a  publisher  with  a  reasonable  chance  of 
[160] 


MARKETING  PLAYS 

publication.  In  a  few  cases  plays  of  highly 
exceptional  literary  merit,  like  "Swords"  and 
"The  Detour,"  have  been  accepted  by  publishers 
though  they  have  failed  on  the  stage;  but  such 
cases  are  extremely  rare.  One  of  the  best  ways 
for  an  author  who  has  not  arrived  in  the  metro- 
politan theatres  to  get  a  hearing  with  a  publisher 
is  for  him  to  have  his  plays  mimeographed  and 
produced  locally  in  one  or  two  little  theatres  be- 
fore submitting  them.  His  press  clippings  may 
help  the  confidence  of  the  publisher.  "The  only 
test  for  plays  is  the  theatre.  If  a  play  doesn't 
work  in  the  theatre  it  won't  work  elsewhere." 

Authors  who  submit  to  publishers  full-length 
plays  should  generally  not  make  them  more  than 
a  hundred  pages  in  length.  "Macbeth"  is  but 
ninety-eight  pages,  in  a  class-room  edition. 
Pageants  are  very  seldom  wanted  by  a  publisher. 
They  are  usually  issued  by  their  authors  in  mime- 
ograph, frequently  through  the  pubhshing  branch 
of  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  The  best  field  for  pubhshed 
plays  is  the  one-act  play.  Two  or  three  publish- 
ing houses  make  a  feature  of  issuing  them  sep- 
arately, one  play  at  a  time.  Most  one-act  plays, 
however,  especially  those  by  new  authors,  are 
issued  in  volumes  usually  of  half  a  dozen,  though 

[161] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

the  number  may  vary  from  three  to  eight  or  ten. 
They  are  also,  of  course,  issued  in  anthologies,  in 
volumes  containing  sometimes  as  many  as  fifty 
plaj^s.  Much  latitude  in  taste  and  subject  may 
be  found  in  such  plays;  but  as  more  than  four 
hundred  schools  and  colleges  are  producing  them, 
the  "clean  play"  stands  by  far  the  better  chance 
of  publication. 

§  Symbolic  Plays  Must  Have  Human  Interest. 

Indisputably,  some  very  fine  one-act  plays  of  a 
symbolic  type  have  recently  been  isued,  but  their 
central  themes,  nevertheless,  have  been  intensely 
emotional  and  human.  Publishers  assert  that 
about  the  most  hopeless  material  that  comes  in 
under  the  name  of  plays  are  the  shapeless  things 
that  their  authors  call  symbolic  plays.  They 
may  have  plenty  of  symbolism,  it  is  remarked, 
but  no  human  interest ;  and  a  play  without  human 
interest  is — well,  not  usually  regarded  with  en- 
thusiasm in  editorial  offices. 

Book  publishers  quite  support  theatrical  man- 
agers and  producers  in  the  opinion  that  unless  a 
writer  is  familiar  with  the  stage  he  had  better  not 
attempt  to  write  plays  at  all.  Not  because  the 
writer  is  hedged  about  by  stiff  formalities,  but  be- 
[162] 


MARKETING  PLAYS 

cause  he  is  considerably  limited  by  the  mechanical 
possibilities  of  the  stage,  especially  of  an  amateur 
stage. 

As  in  writing  any  kind  of  literature,  the  editor- 
ial authorities  again  assert,  the  first  essential  for 
the  embarking  playwright  is  a  study  of  the  best 
examples. 

And,  if  possible,  a  contraction  of  the  habit  of 
visiting  a  drama  bookshop  is  strongly  recom- 
mended. 


[163] 


VIII 

CONTRACTS   AND   EOYALTIES 

DIRECTLY  after  the  manuscript  of  a  book 
has  been  accepted  for  pubhcation  the 
author  usually  receives  from  the  publishers  two 
copies  of  a  formal  document.  This  instrument 
is  a  contract,  or  (as  it  is  sometimes  labelled) 
"Memorandum  of  Agreement" — made  (the  pre- 
amble perhaps  recites)  this  twenty-sixth  day  of 
June,  1922,  between  John  Doe,  of  New  York 
City,  hereinafter  called  the  Author,  and  (let  us 
say)  GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY,  of  New  York, 
hereinafter  called  the  Publishers,  whereby  it  is 
mutually  agreed:  .  .  . 

In  most  cases  the  publisher's  contract  is  a 
printed  form.  Sometimes  it  is  merely  typewrit- 
ten. Generally  it  is  a  rather  lengthy  affair. 
When  the  contract  reaches  the  author  it  bears  the 
signature  of  the  pubhsher.  If  the  terms  of  the 
contract  are  satisfactory  to  the  author,  he  should 
sign,  in  the  place  provided  for  his  autograph, 
[164] 


CONTRACTS  AND  ROYALTIES 

both  of  the  copies  sent  to  him.  And  then  return 
one  copy  to  the  pubhsher,  keeping  the  other 
himself. 

§  Gentlemen's  Agreements. 

There  is  no  standard  form  of  contract  for  pub- 
lishing works  in  book  form.  Each  publisher  has 
his  own  contract  form.  A  number  of  the  smaller 
publishers,  it  seems,  still  rely  upon  "gentlemen's 
agreements"  which  consist  merely  of  an  exchange 
of  letters.  These  letters  state  little  more  than 
that  the  pubhsher  agrees  to  publish  the  work; 
that  he  agrees,  also,  to  pay  the  author  so  much  at 
certain  times ;  and  that  the  author  agrees  to  turn 
over  the  work  to  the  publisher  for  pubhcation 
according  to  the  stated  terms.  The  details  of 
these  transactions  are  settled  verbally. 

Although  more  often  than  not  the  publishers 
who  accept  books  according  to  "gentlemen's 
agreements"  are  thoroughly  honest  and  invari- 
ably look  after  the  interests  of  their  authors,  it 
must  be  admitted  that  "gentlemen's  agreements'* 
are  no  longer  businesslike,  and,  in  fact,  give  the 
author  no  legal  protection.  A  man  of  any  ex- 
perience in  affairs  would  not  rent  a  house  simply 
on  the  exchange  of  letters  in  which  the  owner  or 

[165] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

his  agent  agrees  to  rent  the  house  in  return  for  a 
certain  sum  of  monej-  and  the  man  agrees  to 
occupy  the  house  and  pay  the  stated  sum. 

When  an  author  pubhshes  a  book,  he  becomes 
in  a  sense  a  partner  of  the  publisher,  investing  his 
time  and  creative  talent  jointly  with  the  pub- 
lisher's business  talent  and  capital.  It  is  his  busi- 
ness to  see  to  it  that  all  of  his  interests  in  the 
venture  are  protected,  just  as  the  publisher  is 
sure  to  see  to  it  that  all  of  his  interests  are  pro- 
tected. Every  contract  between  an  author  and 
a  publisher  ought,  of  course,  to  be  as  fair  for  the 
author  as  it  is  for  the  publisher. 

§  Taking  it  for  Granted. 

The  creative  worker  in  the  arts,  however,  has 
proverbially  never  by  the  very  nature  of  his  work 
been  particularly  attentive  to  obtaining  from  the 
commercial  world  the  full  compensation  due  to 
him  for  his  contribution  to  progress  or  to  the 
amenities  of  existence.  Then  many  writers  have 
the  type  of  mind  which  finds  legal  documents 
quite  formidable  reading,  and  to  them  a  pub- 
lisher's contract  seems  about  as  comprehensible 
as  a  railway  time-table.  They  are  inclined  to 
"take  it  for  granted"  that  the  thing  is  "all  right," 
[166] 


CONTRACTS  AND  ROYALTIES 

and  let  it  go  at  that.  And  frequently  one  about 
to  publish  his  own  book  is  so  carried  away  by 
elation  that  he  would  be  likely  to  blindly  sign  his 
own  death  warrant  without  looking  at  it. 

Read  your  contract.  Any  respectable  pub- 
lisher would  want  you  to.  Recently  the  author  of 
a  book  which  turned  out  to  be  one  of  the  most 
successful  humorous  volumes  of  the  year  was  ob- 
viously so  bewildered  and  bored  when  his  con- 
tract was  handed  to  him  that  his  publisher  almost 
forcibly  restrained  him  in  a  chair  while  he  read  it 
to  him.  And  read  your  contract  carefully.  Not 
long  ago  a  man  who  had  been  for  a  number  of 
years  in  the  editorial  branch  of  the  publishing 
business  upon  looking  over  the  contract  for  a 
book  of  his  own  which  he  was  about  to  have  pub- 
lished understood  the  paper  to  say  that  in  certain 
circumstances  the  royalty  was  to  be  ten  per  cent, 
per  copy,  when,  in  fact,  the  contract  read  ten 
cents  per  copy.  And  his  misconception  of  the 
terms  clearly  stated  led  him  to  expect  twice  the 
amount  of  profit  proposed. 

§  Slipshod  Agreements, 

Sometimes  a  publishing  house  which  has  two 
lists  of  books,  each  one  distinct  in  its  character 

[1671 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

and  problems  from  the  other,  feels  that  it  is  ad- 
visable to  have  two  forms  of  contract.  This  is 
the  case,  for  example,  with  Henrj^  Holt  and 
Company,  which  has  one  form  of  contract  for  its 
educational  books  and  another,  slightly  different, 
for  its  fiction  and  general  list.  Usually,  however, 
a  publisher  has  but  one  form  of  contract.  This 
is  used  by  the  most  prominent  writers  published 
by  the  house  and  by  those  whose  maiden  achieve- 
ment in  book  form  is  about  to  appear.  But  while 
certain  prominent  authors  may  use  the  same  basic 
form  they  are  likely  not  to  do  so  without  having 
made  a  number  of  changes  which  alter  the  com- 
plexion of  the  document  considerably.  The  point 
here  is  this:  If  an  author  is  not  in  complete 
agreement  with  each  and  all  of  the  terms  of  his 
contract  as  it  is  presented  to  him,  he  should  not 
rely  on  a  mere  verbal  statement  or  an  informal 
letter  from  his  publisher  as  a  way  of  revising  it. 
In  this  way  sUpshod  agreements  sometimes  are 
made  that  later  are  the  cause  of  infinite  trouble 
owing  to  the  lack  of  a  definite  record  of  the 
understanding  arrived  at.  In  the  world  of  purely 
commercial  business,  of  course,  both  parties  to  a 
transaction  are  intent  upon  fixing  in  writing  as 
accurately  as  may  be  the  terms  of  agreement  and 
[168] 


CONTRACTS  AND  ROYALTIES 

every  attempt  is  made  to  cover  all  possible  con- 
tingencies in  such  manner  that  no  opening  for 
future  discussion  or  disagreement  may  be  left. 
And  an  author  who  will  follow  such  a  course  is 
being  as  fair  with  his  publisher  as  with  himself. 

There  is,  as  has  been  said,  no  standard  form  of 
contract  employed  in  common  among  publishers. 
Latter-day  developments  in  the  publishing  world 
have  caused  the  contracts  now  in  use  with  some 
publishing  houses  to  seem  somewhat  old-fash- 
ioned. Twenty  years  ago  the  novel  which  stood 
dramatization  was  extremely  rare.  And  until 
recently  the  subject  of  motion  picture  rights  was 
hardly  considered  at  all.  Today  the  matter  of 
proprietorship  of  all  the  various  "rights"  which 
may  attach  to  the  work  of  a  writer  has  become 
highly  complicated.  There  are  first  serial  rights, 
second  serial  rights,  book,  music,  dramatic,  movie, 
foreign  and  translation  rights. 

During  the  past  seven  or  eight  years  the 
Authors'  League  of  America  has  made  repeated 
attempts  to  work  out  a  form  which  would  meet 
the  just  demands  of  the  pubHshers  and  would  at 
the  same  time  adequately  recognize  the  claims  of 
the  author.  The  problems  arising  from  a  con- 
sideration of  authors'  and  publishers'  contracts 

[169] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

are  many  and  fairly  complex.  It  was  found  dif- 
ficult to  generalize  and  still  more  difficult  to 
establish  a  satisfactory  and  workable  standard. 
In  its  "Bulletin"  for  February,  1919,  a  spokes- 
man for  the  League  said  that  for  one  reason  or 
another  none  of  these  attempts  had  been  success- 
ful. The  nearest  approach  to  success,  he  con- 
tinued, was  a  form  evolved  the  year  before  with 
the  help  of  a  number  of  friendly  publishers  which 
provided  a  skeleton  for  an  agreement  but  which 
left  open  all  such  questions  as  ownership  of  copy- 
right, secondary  rights,  percentage  of  royaltj^  et 
cetera.  The  League  continued  to  try  to  reach 
some  conclusive  decision  and  further  conferred 
with  some  of  the  representative  publishers.  In 
its  "Bulletin"  for  January,  1922,  (which  is  prob- 
ably on  file  at  most  public  libraries)  it  published 
"A  Standard  Form  of  Publishing  Contract,  Ap- 
proved by  the  Executive  Committee  of  the 
Authors'  League,"  preceeded  by  this  statement: 
"As  a  'maximum'  contract  this  form  is  planned 
to  include  all  those  clauses  and  stipulations  which 
any  author  might  urge  at  one  time  or  another  for 
the  full  protection  of  his  work.  Practically  every 
clause  in  this  contract  has  at  one  time  or  another 
[170] 


CONTRACTS  AND  ROYALTIES 

been  included  in  an  actual  agreement  arrived  at 
between  author  and  publisher." 

§  A  Specimen  Contract. 

This  tentative,  specimen  contract  will,  of 
course,  give  anyone  interested  a  detailed  view  of 
the  multitudinous  matters  considered  in  pub- 
lishers' contracts.  Whether  or  not  it  is  possible, 
however,  to  construct  a  contract  which  could 
serve,  with  equal  justice  to  all,  the  varying  char- 
acter of  the  business  of  a  majority  of  publishers 
remains  problematical.  A  prominent  publisher 
recently  adopted  the  League's  form  of  contract, 
but  with  certain  variations  which  seemed  to  him 
imperative  owing  to  special  conditions  in  his  busi- 
ness, and  which,  after  consideration  of  the  matter 
were  approved  by  the  Executive  Committee  of 
the  Authors'  League.  And  the  author  of  a  "first 
book"  who  is  over  zealous  in  the  matter  of  his 
"rights"  and  dues  is  likely  to  find  that,  if  he  is 
going  to  get  it  out  at  all,  it  will  be  necessary  for 
him  to  publish  his  book  himself.  It  is  a  highly 
advisable  thing,  of  course,  for  an  author  to  take 
an  intelligent  interest  in  the  whole  matter  of  the 
publication  of  his  book,  and  to  analj-^se  each  clause 
of  his  contract  so  that  he  clearly  understands 

[171] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

what  is  said  in  it;  but  when  deahng  with  a  pub- 
hsher  of  reputable  reputation  the  likeHhood  of  his 
being  dehberately  "done"  in  any  way  is  sHght. 
This  is  said  on  the  authority  of  a  man  who  has 
been  a  member  of  the  editorial  staffs  of  four  of 
the  leading  publishing  houses  in  New  York.  It 
will  do  the  author  no  harm,  however,  to  investi- 
gate a  bit  as  to  whether  the  publisher  is  one  of 
thoroughly  reputable  reputation.  Such  a  thing  is 
not  altogether  unknown  as  a  lawyer  being  re- 
quired to  collect  royalties  from  a  house  of  out- 
wardly flourishing  character. 

A  publisher's  terms,  of  course,  vary  with  the 
character  of  different  books,  and  the  basic  form  of 
his  contract  is  filled  in  accordingly.  The  royalty 
on  a  book  of  verse,  for  instance,  is  considerably 
less  than  that  on  a  work  of  fiction.  And  phrases 
or  clauses  which  do  not  pertain  to  the  volume 
being  arranged  for  are  (when  the  contract  is  in 
printed  form)  struck  out.  Every  now  and  then 
matter  applying  peculiarly  to  a  particular  book 
is  written  into  the  stock  form  of  a  contract.  For 
example,  say,  the  royalty  to  be  paid  on  copies  of 
a  book  sold  by  agreement  between  author  and 
publisher  in  combination  with  subscriptions  for 
a  magazine,  as  distinct  from  the  royalty  on  copies 
[172] 


CONTRACTS  AND  ROYALTIES 

sold  through  the  regular  trade  channels.  The 
royalty  paid  on  any  one  type  of  book  by  an 
author  unable  to  dictate  his  own  terms  is  approxi- 
mately the  same  among  all  well-established  pub- 
lishers, or  at  least  does  not  vary  much.  On  regu- 
lar sales  the  percentage  of  royalty  is  calculated  on 
the  retail  price  of  the  book.  The  number  of  free 
copies  of  his  book  which  an  author  is  entitled  to 
receive  differs  a  little  with  various  houses.  With 
some  the  rule  is  six  copies,  with  others  eight,  or 
ten,  or,  maybe,  twelve.  Additional  copies  may  be 
purchased  by  the  author,  for  his  own  use  (that  is, 
not  for  him  to  sell) ,  at  a  liberal  discount  from  the 
list  price. 

§  Advances  Against  Royalties. 

A  cash  advance  against  royalties  is  fre- 
quently made  by  the  publishers  when  contracting 
with  the  more  successful  authors.  This  is  usually 
payable  either  upon  publication  or  half  upon  the 
delivery  of  the  completed  manuscript  and  the 
remainder  upon  publication.  Within  the  past 
few  years  some  publishers  have  been  offering  the 
alternative  of  paying  royalties  on  advance  sales 
made  before  the  date  of  publication  in  lieu  of  a 
cash  advance.    The  author  here,  of  course,  takes 

[173] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

a  chance  of  early  getting  more  money  or  less 
money  than  by  the  plan  of  a  stated  cash  advance. 
Publishers  commonly  do  not  pay  more  than  half 
of  the  regular  rate  of  royalty  on  export  sales. 

§  New  Editions. 

Many  contracts  provide  for  the  publication 
of  a  cheap  edition,  some  specified  time  (perhaps 
two  years)  "after  date  of  publication  of  said 
work."  Usually,  in  the  case  of  books  of  fiction 
thus  re-issued,  the  publisher  sells  the  right  to 
bring  out  a  cheap  edition  to  a  firm  of  "reprint 
pubhshers,"  paying  the  author  on  such  royalty 
sales  what  is  generally  considered  a  fair  propor- 
tion of  the  amount  received  from  the  second  pub- 
lishers. Successful  works  of  non-fiction  not  in- 
frequently are  later  issued  in  cheaper  forms  by 
the  original  publisher.  Or  a  publisher  may  de- 
cide to  publish  an  expanded  edition  of  some  pop- 
ular book,  maybe  with  the  addition  of  illustra- 
tions. In  all  cases  where  a  latter  edition  of  a 
price  different  from  the  first  is  not  contemplated 
and  specifically  provided  for  in  the  original  con- 
tract for  the  book,  the  author  should,  in  the  inter- 
ests of  his  heirs  or  assigns,  obtain  a  new  contract, 
or  some  formal  memorandum,  covering  the  busi- 
[174] 


CONTRACTS  AND  ROYALTIES 

ness  conditions  as  between  himself  and  his  pub- 
lisher upon  which  the  new  edition  is  pubhshed. 
It  is,  in  certain  aspects,  a  new  book. 

As  to  the  time  provided  in  a  book  contract  for 
rendering  statements  of  accounts  and  for  making 
payments.  A  typical  clause  follows :  "The  first 
statement  shall  not  be  rendered  until  six  months 
after  date  of  publication  and  thereafter  state- 
ments shall  be  rendered  semi-annually,  in  the 
months  of  February  and  August;  settlement  to 
made  in  cash,  four  months  after  date  of  state- 
ment." 

Some  houses  require  the  author  to  apply  for 
statements.  In  most  cases  they  are  sent  out  auto- 
matically by  the  publishers.  The  statements  of 
some  houses  show  in  detail  the  number  of  copies 
printed,  the  number  sold  in  the  United  States, 
the  number  sold  in  Canada,  the  number  sold  in 
England,  the  number  spoiled,  the  number  given 
away  for  review,  and  the  number  on  hand.  Other 
houses  deem  it  sufficient  to  state  the  number  of 
copies  sold.  The  custom  of  a  four  months'  delay 
in  royalty  payments  has  become  rather  firmly 
estabhshed.  This  arose  from  the  fact  that  pub- 
lishers are  accustomed  to  grant  long  payment 
terms  to  the  retailers.     They  commonly  do  not 

[175] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

collect  for  sales  until  from  three  to  six  months 
after  the  goods  are  shipped. 

§  Royalty  Accounts. 

The  problem  of  the  proper  authentication  of 
royalty  accounts  has  long  vexed  both  author  and 
publisher.  A  few  of  the  leading  publishing 
houses  have  adopted  the  plan  of  having  their 
royalty  statements  attested  by  certified  public 
accountants.  But  (and  the  management  of  the 
Authors'  League  is  not  exactly  reluctant  to 
"speak  out"  in  its  attitude  toward  publishers)  a 
leading  article  in  an  issue  of  The  Authors' 
League  "Bulletin"  for  1919  states  that:  "Experi- 
ence and  careful  investigation  have  shown  that 
the  well-known  publishers,  almost  without  excep- 
tion, may  be  relied  upon  to  render  truthful  state- 
ments." 

§  Options. 

It  often  happens  that,  when  contracting  for 
the  pubhcation  of  a  book,  the  publishers  stipulate 
for  the  first  refusal  of  the  next  book  or  maybe 
two  books  by  the  author.  The  advantage  or 
otherwise  to  the  author  of  such  an  arrangement 
depends  on  the  circumstances  of  the  particular 
[176] 


CONTRACTS  AND  ROYALTIES 

case.  The  terms  on  which  such  an  option  are 
arranged  vary,  but  a  specification  of  them  may  be 
valuable  to  the  author.  Sometimes,  indeed,  a 
pubhsher  "signs  up"  with  an  author  for  an  option 
on  so  many  of  his  books  to  come  as  the  next  ten. 
There  have  even  been  cases  wherein  an  author  has 
agreed  to  give  his  publisher  the  first  examination 
of  all  his  work  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  The  mean- 
ing of  this  arrangement  is  that  the  publisher  is  at 
liberty  to  decline  any  book  that  the  author  may 
submit  to  him,  after  which  decision  the  author  is 
at  liberty  to  place  the  book  elsewhere,  but  the 
author  is  obligated  to  continue  to  submit  first  to 
this  publisher  anything  else  that  he  does.  In- 
stances have  occuiTed  where  the  publisher  has 
agreed  to  take  anjrthing  and  everything  that  an 
author  does.  "But,"  said  an  author  in  one  such 
case,  "suppose  that  sometime  I  dump  upon  you 
some  utterly  punk  stuff."  "Then,"  replied  the 
publisher,  "I'd  be  sorry,  for  your  sake  as  well  as 
my  own,  but  I'd  publish  the  book." 

§  Flexible  Agreements. 

Much  insistence  has  been  placed  in  this  article 
upon  the  advisability  for  an  author  of  having  all 
possible  contingencies  provided  for  in  his  contract 

[177] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

and  all  matters  of  agreement  "nailed  down.'* 
And  the  idea  of  a  "gentlemen's  agreement"  be- 
tween author  and  publisher  was  not  particularly- 
commended.  There  are,  however,  conditions 
conceivable  where  a  more  or  less  flexible  agree- 
ment might  prove  to  be  the  better  way.  The  un- 
known, or  little  known  author  strugghng  to  get 
his  book  accepted  anywhere  may  regard  with 
wonderment  what  he  feels  to  be  the  heavenly 
felicity  of  a  man  whose  unwritten  work  a  pub- 
lisher seeks  to  acquire  for  years  to  come.  But  let 
us  consider  this  situation:  An  author  enters  into 
a  precise  contract  with  a  publisher  to  give  him  an 
option  on  anything  in  the  form  of  a  book  he  may 
write  for  a  certain  considerable  period  of  time. 
(a)  Sometime  later  he  and  the  publisher  fall  out 
about  some  question  of  business  (maybe  it  seems 
to  the  author  that  the  publisher  has  made  a  num- 
ber of  strategic  blunders  in  handling  his  work) 
or  about  some  personal  matter,  and  relations  be- 
tween them  become  decidedly  strained,  (h)  Or 
the  publisher  dies  and  the  author  finds  that  he 
does  not  get  on  amicably  with  those  who  succeed 
him  in  the  business,  (c)  Or  the  publishing 
house  begins  to  decline  in  character,  and  the  value 
of  its  imprint  diminishes,  {d)  Or  the  pubhsher 
[178] 


CONTRACTS  AND  ROYALTIES 

gets  into  financial  difficulties  and  the  matter  of 
his  paying  royalties  promptly  becomes  pre- 
carious. 

In  the  event  of  any  one  of  the  propositions 
designated  a,  h  and  c,  what  would  be  the  result  of 
a  hard  and  fast  contract  binding  the  author  to 
turn  over  book  after  book?  His  position  cer- 
tainly would  not  be  an  agreeable  one.  It  might 
very  probably  be  so  provoking  as  to  cause  his 
work  and  career  to  suffer  more  than  a  bit.  And 
his  publishers  would  not  be  likely  to  be  happy  in 
•the  arrangement.  The  only  way  out  of  such  an 
untenable  situation  would  be  for  the  publishers 
formally  to  release  the  author  from  his  recorded 
agreement.  This,  presumably,  by  any  house  of 
character  would  sooner  or  later  be  done. 

The  hypothetical  situation  suggested  above  in 
the  supposition  marked  d  presents  a  nice  ethical 
problem.  It  may  be  observed  that  a  good  many 
authors  who  have  a  very  lively  sense  of  the  duty 
of  the  publisher  toward  themselves  do  not  reveal 
any  very  active  consciousness  of  lofty  honor  on 
their  part  toward  their  publishers.  Though  it 
should  be  added  that  charming  relationships, 
where  there  is  pronounced  loyalty  on  both  sides, 
are  not  absent  from  the  publishing  world. 

[179] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

§  Personal  Relationships. 

There  have  even  been  cases  where  the  friend- 
ship of  a  publisher  for  an  author  has  caused  him 
to  bear  patiently  for  a  long  time  with  many  busi- 
ness delinquencies  of  the  latter,  and  to  stand  in 
somewhat  the  same  relationship  to  him  as  that  of 
a  father  constant  in  his  regard  for  a  somewhat 
erring  son.  But  to  return  to  the  more  ordinary 
course  of  things.  A  publisher  (we'll  say)  has 
done  the  best  he  could  for  an  author,  and  has 
served  him  well.  He  may  have  accepted  his  first 
book,  in  the  days  when  the  author  almost  de- 
spaired of  ever  finding  a  pubhsher.  He  has,  it 
may  be,  carried  along  some  of  the  author's  books 
on  a  very  thin  gambling  chance  of  any  profit. 
By  advertising  and  vigilant  attention  to  pub- 
licity built  up  the  author  into  a  valuable  "literary 
property."  Then  circumstances  press  upon  him 
and  his  business  inclines  to  move  a  bit  haltingly. 

It  has  been  assumed  in  a  general  way  by  both 
parties  to  the  relationship  that  the  author  would 
continue  right  along  with  this  publisher;  but  he 
has  not  bound  himself  by  contract  to  do  so  for 
any  stated  length  of  time.  His  books  have  come 
to  be  sought  by  other  publishers  in  unquestion- 
[180] 


CONTRACTS  AND  ROYALTIES 

ably  solid  circumstances.  Would  he,  however, 
in  his  heart  feel  altogether  free  to  desert  at  a.diffi- 
cult  moment  the  publisher  who  had  so  well  stood 
by  him? 

Authors  of  a  good  deal  of  prominence  could 
be  named  who  simply  and  unselfishly  have  been 
very  much  devoted  to  their  publishers.  Some- 
times an  author  becomes  greatly  attached  to  an 
editor  with  whom  he  has  always  dealt  at  the  house 
which  has  been  publishing  his  books.  When,  if  it 
should  so  happen,  this  editor  goes  to  another 
house  the  author  goes  with  him,  that  is  thereafter 
he  places  his  books  there.  One  of  the  most  suc- 
cessful of  American  novelists,  if  not  the  most 
successful  one,  one  time  remarked  apropos  of  this 
matter:    "I  follow  men,  not  houses." 

§  Validity  of  Contracts. 

When  a  contract  providing  for  the  publication 
of  a  book  has  been  signed  by  pubhsher  (or  one 
authorized  to  represent  him)  and  author,  it  is  as 
binding  on  both  parties  to  the  agreement  as  a 
contract  in  any  other  department  of  the  business 
world.  That  is,  it  cannot  be  repudiated  by  one 
party  to  the  transaction ;  it  will  stand  in  law.  It 
is,  in  its  minor  way,  analogous  to  a  treaty  be- 

[181] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

tween  nations ;  and  it  could  be  made  perilous  for 
one  to  regard  it  as  "a  scrap  of  paper."  Anybody, 
you'd  think,  would  be  aware  of  that.  Well,  it  has 
sometimes  happened  that  an  author  has,  when 
opposed  to  some  detail  that  has  arisen,  offered 
to  return  to  the  publisher  his  copy  of  the  con- 
tract. What  would  an  author  say  if,  in  like  cir- 
cumstances, a  publisher  suddenly  announced  that 
he  was  inclined  to  throw  away  his  copy  of  the 
contract?  A  contract  though  can,  of  course,  be 
dissolved  by  agreement  between  the  signatory 
parties.  Following  the  custom  which  is  becoming 
more  and  more  extended  in  the  business  world, 
an  "arbitration  clause"  is  frequently  included  in 
the  form  contracts  of  publishers.  The  advis- 
ability of  such  a  clause  is  a  matter  of  some  con- 
troversy. 


[182] 


IX 

QUESTIONS   OF   COPYRIGHT 

THE  subject  of  copyright  as  relating  to  the 
productions  of  an  author  is  an  exceedingly 
intricate  one.  To  follow  through  in  detail  the 
v/hole  subject  would  require  a  volume.  Further 
than  that,  a  number  of  questions  in  the  matter 
still  remain  at  issue,  and  nobody  seems  to  know 
what  may  be  the  conclusive  answer  to  them.  In 
Section  280  of  the  Penal  Code  it  appears  that  a 
layman  is  not  permitted  to  give  persons  legal 
advice  or  to  assist  them  in  the  legal  phrasing  and 
revision  of  contracts.  It  is,  therefore,  advisable 
for  authors,  when  in  difficulties  about  the  matter, 
to  consult  an  attorney  for  assistance  in  applying 
information  obtained  from  lay  sources. 

§  International  Copyright. 

The  fight  for  international  copyright  was  long 
and  hard  and  as  far  at  least  as  our  own  country 
is  concerned  is  still  unfinished.    Since  the  estab- 

[183] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

lishment  of  international  copyright  in  1891  the 
European  market  for  American  books  has 
steadily  improved.  An  important  development 
in  international  copyright,  as  provided  in  the 
International  Copyright  Conventions,  was  the 
protocol  which  was  added  to  the  Berlin  Conven- 
tion on  March  20,  1914.  The  report  of  Thorvald 
Solberg,  the  Register  of  Copyrights,  dated  July 
6,  1917,  contains  a  complete,  authoritative  and 
concise  survey  of  international  copyrights. 
Among  other  things  the  Register  urged  the  neces- 
sity of  changes  in  our  Copyright  Law  which 
would  enable  the  United  States  to  enter  the  In- 
ternational Copyright  Union.  An  article  in  the 
"Bulletin"  of  The  Authors'  League,  issue  of 
February,  1915,  concludes  thus:  "It  would  be 
hard,  indeed,  to  overestimate  the  importance  of 
copyright  legislation  and  the  difficulty  of  arous- 
ing interest  in  it  is  much  to  be  regi'etted,  as  are 
also  the  widespread  indifference  and  ignorance  in 
regard  to  the  sub j  ect.  Writers  especially  should 
be  strongly  interested  in  every  new  development 
and  should  take  active  part  in  the  fight  that  is 
being  carried  on  by  some  of  the  best-known  New 
York  publishers  and  by  the  Authors'  League  for 
fuller  and  freer  protection  of  literary  and  artis- 
[184] 


QUESTIONS  OF  COPYRIGHT 

tic  material.  There  is  no  class,  except  perhaps 
the  publishers,  whose  interests  are  so  much 
affected  by  copyright  legislation  as  authors." 

§  Copyright  Reform. 

The  American  Publishers'  Copyright  League 
is  an  organization  whose  object  is  to  work  for  do- 
mestic copyright  reform  and  to  seek  to  improve 
the  situation  and  opportunities  of  American 
claimants  to  copyright  abroad.  Active  in  this 
direction,  also,  has  been  work  done  by  the  Incor- 
porated Society  of  Authors,  Playwrights  and 
Composers. 

The  World  War  seriously  interfered  with  the 
international  copyright  relations  of  the  United 
States.  As  a  result  of  embargoes,  irregularities 
in  traffic  conditions,  and  so  on,  many  valuable 
international  copyrights  were  lost  owing  to  the 
impossibility  for  American  citizens  to  comply 
with  the  formahties  in  foreign  countries  and  for 
foreigners  to  comply  with  such  formalities  in  the 
United  States.  The  State  Department  was  pe- 
titioned for  the  introduction  of  a  bill  in  Congress 
which  would  make  it  possible  to  repair  at  least 
partially  the  havoc  wrought  by  the  war  in  the 
field  of  international  copyright.  One  of  the  kinks 

[185] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

in  the  international  copyright  situation  is  that 
copyright  through  registry  in  Canada  is  not 
effective  in  England. 

§  Foreign  Markets. 

British,  Colonial  and  Canadian  sales  for 
American  books  are  frequently  quite  substantial. 
If  the  American  publisher  has  an  English  branch 
or  close  Enghsh  connections  he  can  usually  be  re- 
lied upon  to  take  advantage  of  the  opportunities 
offered  in  these  fields.  If  he  has  not,  and  has  not 
acquired  by  contract  territorial  rights  to  the  book 
covering  other  countries,  the  author  may  deal 
directly  with  a  British  firm,  or  through  an  agent. 
In  this  connection  it  is  important  to  take  into 
consideration  the  requirements  of  the  British 
Copyright  Law  in  regard  to  simultaneous  publi- 
cation and  also  to  bear  in  mind  the  fact  that  the 
Enghsh  publishers  almost  invariably  demand 
Colonial  rights  as  well  as  British. 

Many  books  by  foreign  authors  have  a  great 
circulation  over  here;  but  comparatively  few 
American  books  have  any  sale  abroad,  even  in 
England,  and  those  few  are  usually  the  work  of 
our  best-known  and  highest-priced  authors.  And 
these  authors  usually  have  the  knowledge  and 
[186] 


QUESTIONS  OF  COPYRIGHT 

position  to  look  after  the  foreign  marketing  of 
their  work.  So  the  bulk  of  the  preceding  several 
paragraphs  may  seem  to  be  rather  beside  the 
point  in  the  immediate  case  of  the  beginner 
author.  Still  it  may  serve  as  a  very  slender  intro- 
duction to  a  subject  which  may  concern  him 
later  on.  And  also  some  few  "first  books"  have 
found  their  way  to  an  export  sale,  and  even  (in 
rare  instances)  have  been  translated  into  foreign 
languages. 

§  United  States  Copyright. 

The  first  term  of  United  States  copyright  for 
a  book  is  twenty-eight  years.  A  renewal  term  of 
equal  length  may  be  obtained  making  the  entire 
possible  term  of  United  States  copyright  fifty-six 
years.  The  Government  publishes  sheets  giving 
information  concerning  copyrights  which  are 
used  for  reference  in  the  offices  of  publishing 
houses  and  which  may  be  had  by  anyone  upon 
request. 

§  Securing  Registration. 

One  of  these  pages  is  headed:  "Library  of 
Congress.     Copyright  Office.     Application  for 

[187] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

Number  35.  Steps  necessary  to  secure  copyright 
registration  in  the  United  States  under  the  act  of 
March  4,  1909,  as  amended."  To  procure  copy- 
right for  a  bound  book  the  printed  form  to  be 
used  is  labelled,  "application  for  copyright — 

BOOK     NOW    FIRST     PUBLISHED    IN    THE    UNITED 

STATES."  On  the  reverse  side  of  this  card  is  a 
form  for  an  affidavit  of  American  manufacture. 
The  execution  of  this  affidavit  must  be  subse- 
quent to  the  publication  of  the  book.  This  is 
application  "Al."  If  the  work  is  a  new  edition 
or  republished,  the  apphcation  to  be  used  is 
"A2."  These  forms  may  be  obtained  from  the 
Register  of  Copyrights,  Washington,  D.  C,  and 
are  to  be  returned  to  him,  accompanied  by  one 
dollar,  statutory  fee  for  registration  and  certifi- 
cate. Also,  at  the  same  time,  of  the  book  named 
two  complete  copies  "of  the  best  edition  first  pub- 
lished on  the  date  stated  herein"  are  to  be  de- 
posited with  the  Register  of  Copyrights.  In  the 
matter  of  plays  not  to  be  printed  or  bound  the 
form  used  is:  "D2.  Application  for  Copyright 
— Dramatic  Composition  not  Reproduced  for 
Sale."  And  one  complete  copy  of  the  script  is 
deposited. 
[188] 


QUESTIONS  OF  COPYRIGHT 

§  Copyright  Ownership. 

Few  authors  themselves  go  to  the  trouble  of 
copyrighting  their  books.  There  is  no  reason 
why  they  should  unless  they  are  publishing  the 
book  themselves.  The  pubHshing  house  which 
has  accepted  a  book  nearly  alwaj^s  arranges  for 
the  copyright.  As  matters  stand,  the  publisher 
usually  takes  out  the  copyright  in  the  name  of  his 
house.  The  subject  of  having  the  copyright  in 
the  name  of  the  author  was  given  some  attention 
in  the  chapter  of  this  book  entitled  "Publishing 
Your  Own  Book."  And  it  might  be  useful  for 
the  reader  here  to  look  again  at  the  question  as 
treated  there. 

§  By  Products. 

The  Authors'  League  of  America  advocates 
that  everything  an  author  has  published  be  copy- 
righted in  the  name  of  the  author.  The  author 
then  has  the  power  to  sell  the  serial  rights  to  a 
magazine,  the  book  rights  to  a  publishing  house, 
the  playwrights  to  a  producer,  and  so  on,  with- 
out having  to  get  permission  for  each  transaction 
from  a  third  party.  The  League's  "Bulletin" 
reports  the  extreme  opposite  attitude  as  stated  by 

[189] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

one  directing  publisher,  who  says:  "The  only- 
satisfactory  way  is  to  place  aU  rights,  except  the 
serial  rights,  in  the  hands  of  the  publisher,  and 
let  him  do  the  best  he  can  by  the  author."  This 
man's  position  is  that  while  the  writer  who  lives 
in  New  York  and  knows  by  experience  the  busi- 
ness side  of  his  profession  may  dispose  of  his  by- 
product to  advantage,  most  authors  with  whom 
he  deals  do  not  belong  to  that  class.  His  typical 
author  lives  somewhere  in  the  Middle  West,  and 
is  not  in  touch  with  those  managers  who  deal  with 
dramatic  rights  nor  with  those  newspaper  syndi- 
cates which  handle  the  second  serial  rights.  The 
publisher,  being  on  the  ground,  and  having  ex- 
perience in  all  these  details  of  his  business,  finds 
himself  in  a  better  position  to  get  the  full  value 
of  the  by-product.  The  greater  number  of  the 
leading  publishing  houses,  it  is  fairly  safe  to  say, 
are  willing  to  release  most  of  the  by-products  to 
the  author.  In  order,  however,  to  protect  "all 
rights"  in  his  work  an  author  when  submitting  a 
manuscript  to  a  magazine  or  pubhsher  for  the 
first  time  may  write  something  like  this  in  his 
letter  of  transmission.  This  is  a  form  used  by 
one  of  the  best  known  literary  agents  and  appar- 
ently is  acceptable  to  most  publishers: 
[190] 


QUESTIONS  OF  COPYRIGHT 

This  manuscript  is  submitted  with  the  under- 
standing that  if  it  is  accepted  for  pubhcation,  the 
same  shall  be  copyrighted  by  the  Publisher,  and 
all  rights  in  said  copyright  (except  such  rights 
as  may  be  acquired  by  agreement  with  the 
author)  shall  be  held  in  trust  for  the  benefit  of 
the  author  or  his  assigns,  and  shall  be  reassigned 
to  him  or  them  upon  demand. 

§  Motion  Pictures,  Translations,  and  Plays. 

Moving  picture  production  in  some  instances 
yields  a  greater  profit  than  the  publication  of  the 
novel  or  story  in  print.  The  present  copyright 
law,  Arthur  C.  Train  considers,  appears  to  dis- 
tinguish between  dramatic  rights  and  moving 
picture  rights.  Motion  picture  rights  can  be  dis- 
posed of  any  time  before  or  after  publication. 
Motion  picture  rights  have  been  sold  for  cash 
which  would  have  returned  vastly  more  if  a  con- 
tinuing interest  in  the  film  had  been  secured. 
Scripts  of  motion  pictures  should  be  filed  with 
the  United  States  copyright  department  for  pro- 
tection of  these  versions  of  the  original. 

While  it  is,  of  course,  a  very  flattering  thing 
to  be  of  such  note  and  universal  appeal  as  to  be 
translated  into  a  foreign  language,  the  prices 
paid  for  translation  rights  are  very  low,  rarely 

[191] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

exceeding  one  hundred  to  two  hundred  dollars. 
It  is  said  to  be  extremely  difficult  to  arrange  for 
the  publication  of  a  translation  on  the  royalty 
basis. 

Plays,  even  if  not  published  in  book  form,  are 
performed  in  public.  Therefore,  as  the  essence 
of  present  copyright  legislation  is  protection  of 
material  that  is  presented  to  the  public,  they  are 
copyrightable.  Book  manuscripts,  which  do  not 
require  the  provisions  of  the  copyright  law,  are  in 
the  domain  protected  by  common  law. 

Decisions  of  the  courts  have  repeatedly  been 
sought  by  authors  in  copyright  troubles  with 
magazine  publication.  And  a  good  deal  of  a 
tangle  has  obtained  in  the  matter.  Sometimes 
the  question  has  been  raised  as  to  whether  copy- 
right for  a  story  was  secured  at  all  by  its  publi- 
cation under  a  copyright  notice  containing  only 
the  magazine  proprietor's  name.  The  general 
copyright  of  a  magazine  covering  first  publica- 
tion of  a  contributor's  work  only  serves  to  pro- 
tect other  rights  for  the  author.  They  may,  how- 
ever, be  explicitly  reserved  by  the  author  and  an 
additional  copyright  in  the  author's  name  can 
be  printed  at  the  foot  of  the  magazine  page  as  9 
[192] 


QUESTIONS  OF  COPYRIGHT 

further  protection  over  and  above  the  magazine 
blanket  copyright  notice. 

§  Serial  Rights, 

There  are  still  magazines  that  assume  that  they 
buy  all  rights  for  one  payment.  And  unless  the 
author  has  especially  stipulated  otherwise  in  his 
transaction  with  a  magazine  of  this  character, 
it  holds  that  he  cannot  legally  sell,  say,  the  book 
rights  to  his  novel  without  permission  from  the 
magazine  in  whose  name  it  has  been  copyrighted. 
The  magazine  may  undertake  to  demand  a  share 
in  the  book  royalties  for  giving  its  permission  to 
have  the  novel  pubHshed  in  book  form.  On  the 
other  hand,  "wise"  authors  have  boldly  insisted 
upon  selling  to  magazines  "only  the  serial  rights" 
— and  flattered  themselves  that  their  other  rights 
remained  well  protected  as  their  own  property. 
But,  an  authority  states,  it  has  been  held  by  the 
courts  that  (since  one  cannot  protect  by  copy- 
right what  he  does  not  own) ,  the  magazine  which 
bought  "only  the  serial  rights"  can  copyright 
only  those  rights,  and  therefore,  through  the  pub- 
lication of  the  work  all  other  rights  lapse  to  the 
public.  Or,  rather,  the  courts  would  probably 
so  rule  in  a  suit  at  law.    And  there  you  are.    It 

[193] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

should  be  said,  however,  that  the  better  class 
magazines  are  coming  more  and  more  to  the  posi- 
tion of  assigning  the  copyright  of  the  author's 
work  and  all  rights  (except,  of  course,  the  serial 
rights  which  have  been  used)  back  to  the  author. 
In  the  matter  of  collecting  into  a  volume 
essays  and  short  stories  which  have  first  been 
published  in  various  first-class  magazines,  the 
author  usually,  in  a  note  preceding  the  table  of 
contents  in  the  book,  merely  "gratefully  acknowl- 
edges permission  to  reprint"  from  the  editors  of 
the  publications  in  which  the  work  first  appeared. 
Now  and  then,  he  does  not  even  bother  to  trouble 
the  editors  with  a  request  for  this  permission, 
assuming  that  it  would  be  freely  and  cordially 
given.  Though  the  magazine  could  make  a 
charge  for  granting  this  permission  if  it  wanted 
to. 

§  Legal  Opinions. 

The  law  as  to  the  scope  of  magazine  copyright 
was  formulated  in  the  judges'  opinions  in  a  de- 
cision handed  down  in  1910.  The  League  first 
called  pubHc  attention  to  the  case  in  its  "Bulle- 
tin" for  April,  1913,  in  an  article  on  "Copy- 
right," by  Arthur  C.  Train,  Attorney  for  the 
[194] 


QUESTIONS  OF  COPYRIGHT 

League.  The  Authors'  Club  (New  York),  for 
the  benefit  of  its  members,  pubhshed  in  a  leaflet 
what  the  League  rather  banteringly  called  a 
"digest"  of  the  article.    The  leaflet  read,  in  part: 

Briefly,  these  opinions  are  to  the  effect  that  a 
magazine  copyright  covers  the  matter  contained 
in  each  number  onty  to  the  extent  to  which  such 
matter  is  the  property  of  the  magazine.  It 
therefore  follows  that  in  the  case  of  a  story,  of 
which  only  the  magazine  rights  have  been  sold 
by  the  author,  the  magazine  copyright  leaves  him 
absolutely  unprotected  in  his  dramatic  and, 
theoretically  at  least,  in  his  book  rights.  To  save 
whatever  he  reserves,  he  must  take  copyright, 
also,  in  his  own  name,  fulfilling  the  necessary 
formalities,  such  as  paying  a  separate  fee,  de- 
positing two  copies  in  the  Library  of  Congress, 
and  seeing  that  his  notice  of  copyright  appears 
upon  the  story  when  published  in  the  magazine. 

A  simpler  method  is  for  the  author  to  con- 
vey all  his  rights  to  the  magazine,  receiving  back 
an  obligation  to  retransfer  to  him,  on  demand, 
book,  dramatic  rights,  etc.  The  point  is  that  the 
magazine  must  have  full  ownership,  when  it  takes 
out  its  copyright,  in  order  to  make  that  copyright 
generally  effective. 

It  may  be  noticed  that  very  famous  authors, 
Kipling  for  example,  not  infrequently  do  have  a 
line  of  copyright  notice  in  their  own  name  printed 

[195] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

at  the  bottom  of  the  magazine  page  on  which  their 
work  begins. 

§  Voucher  Checks. 

Writers  inexperienced  in  the  business  side  of 
their  work  frequently  are  so  elated  at  receiving 
a  magazine  publisher's  check  that  they  hardly 
look  at  it  further  than  to  note  the  amount  for 
which  it  is  drawn.  With  a  glow  of  pride  they 
endorse  the  glamorous  instrument,  and  they  are 
by  so  much  richer  than  they  were  before.  "The 
Dial,"  in  1917,  with  much  vigor  pointed  out  to 
the  unsophisticated  writer  the  advisability  of  his 
scrutinizing  the  fine  print  which  may  be  on  his 
check,  just  above  the  place  for  his  signature.  He 
cannot  endorse  the  check  without  signing  what  is 
there  presented  as  an  agreement.  Later  he  may 
have  an  opportunity  to  profitably  dispose  of  the 
book  rights,  foreign  rights,  translation  rights, 
dramatic  rights,  or  film  rights  to  the  work  for 
which,  it  may  be,  he  has  received  from  the  maga- 
zine a  pittance.  The  editor  produces  the  can- 
celled check  and  shows  him  that  he  has  disposed 
of  all  rights.  Rex  Beach  one  time  wrote  a  keen 
little  skit  on  this  subject,  in  the  form  of  a  scenario 
[196] 


QUESTIONS  OF  COPYRIGHT 

("founded  on  fact")  and  entitled,  "It  Happens 
Every  Day."  "^' 

A  celebrated  case  at  law,  Dam  vs.  Kirke  La 
Shelle,  arose  from  the  wording  of  the  only  piece 
of  writing  which  passed  between  author  and  pub- 
lisher. There  were  but  seventeen  words,  omit- 
ting the  date,  to  the  paper,  to  which  the  author 
placed  his  name  acknowledging  receipt  of  eighty- 
five  dollars  "in  full  payment  for"  a  certain  story. 
After  years  of  litigation  the  conclusion  was 
reached  by  the  United  States  Circuit  Court  of 
Appeals  (with  one  judge  out  of  three  dissenting, 
however)  that  this  receipt  was  evidence  of  a  sale 
of  the  entire  rights  to  the  story. 

Rights  assigned  to  the  author  only  by  the  edi- 
tor of  a  magazine,  it  would  appear,  are  invalid  in 
law.  The  assignment  must  be  signed  by  an  offi- 
cer of  the  corporation  publishing  the  magazine. 
The  assignment  also  must  be  recorded  in  Wash- 
ington within  ninety  days  of  its  execution. 


[197] 


X 


PHOTOPLAY   WRITING   AND   THE   PHOTOPLAY 
MARKET 

A  SURVEY  of  the  photoplay  field  leads  one 
•^  ^  to  believe  that  there  is  a  deal  of  misinfor- 
mation regarding  the  moving  pictm-e  industry 
going  the  rounds,  and  that — perhaps  because  the 
moving  picture  producers  have  not  over  troubled 
themselves  to  correct  false  impressions — this  mis- 
information has  taken  root  in  the  minds  of  a 
great  many  people  and  appears  to  be  growing 
rapidly.  One  who  looks  into  this  state  of  affairs 
will  find  that  the  most  recurrent  belief  is  that 
writing  photoplays  requires  no  special  training 
or  talent  and  is  about  the  simplest  method  of 
acquiring  a  fortune. 

"You  see,  I  am  just  a  school-girl,  needing 
money,"  says  a  letter  enclosed  with  a  scenario, 
"and  my  English  teacher  thot  mabe  I  could  make 
some  thru  using  my  English  comp's  for  photo- 
plays so  I  sent  you  these  two — the  first  two  I've 
[198] 


THE  PHOTOPLAY  MARKET 

ever  sent  outside  of  Pleasant  Mountain."  And 
another  letter  says:  "I  send  you  my  first  Photo- 
play and  i  am  sure  it  will  be  All  right  it  is  very 
plain  to  me  the  business  is  thorally  over  done 
most  of  the  photoplays  are  not  worth  much  and 
they  are  filling  up  with  anything  i  think  my 
Scribble  is  much  better  than  the  average."  And 
a  third:  "I  have  heard  so  much  about  the  tre- 
mendous sums  paid  for  photoplays  I  would  like 
to  take  a  shot  at  the  Game.  Please  give  me  some 
idea  of  what  a  photoplay  is.  And  what  is  a  con- 
tinuity?   Am  I  writing  anything  like  it?" 

§  Not  an  Easy  "Game''  for  the  Inexperienced. 

But  the  inexperienced  writers  who  have  taken 
"a  shot  at  the  Game"  have  not  often,  you  will 
find,  met  with  the  instantaneous  success  they  an- 
ticipated. An  ambitious,  persevering  writer  re- 
ports: "I  would  state  that  I  have  been  submit- 
ting manuscripts  to  moving  picture  concerns  for 
seven  years,  i  have  not  sold  one.  Of  course  I 
am  going  to  do  so  some  time.  Further,  follow- 
ing my  high  school  training,  wide  travel  (New 
York  to  Nagasaki  and  six  years  in  regidar  army 
in  the  Islands),  and  two  short  story  'courses,'  a 
regular  reader  of  the  bookman,  and  bearing  the 

[199] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

reputation  of  'a  story  telling  fool,'  yet  as  I  said 
before,  i  just  cannot  get  them  to  stick."  A 
more  discouraged  individual  complains:  "Be- 
tween three  years  of  living  in  a  country  at  war 
with  plenty  of  relatives  and  friends  wounded, 
killed,  etc.  and  three  years  in  the  Photodrama 
GAME  and  nary  a  sale,  I  am  a  nervous  man  and 
find  myself  restless,  irritable  and  I  don't  know 
what."  And  another,  with  less  nervous  and  irri- 
table tendencies  but  just  as  discouraged,  comes 
a  bit  nearer  to  the  truth.  He  writes:  "I  was  told 
to  do  my  own  selling  to  Producers.  Well,  I  have 
sent  dozens  of  stories  out  and  have  come  to  the 
conclusion  the  Producers  don't  buy  outside  stuff 
despite  the  wailings  of  the  Gods  that  be. — They 
don't  have  to  buy  outside.  Nearly  four  long 
years  playing  the  game  and  I  tell  you  it  is  a 
devil  of  a  game.  Have  invested  my  all  in  it  and 
at  last  I  am  disheartened." 

§  Few  Unsolicited  Manuscripts  Accepted. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  producers  will  tell  you 
that  they  do  not  buy  much  "outside  stuff,"  that 
is  unsolicited  material.  The  reason,  they  say,  is 
because  it  has  been  found  that  not  one  person  in 
a  thousand  who  write  for  the  movies  shows  in  his 
[200] 


THE  PHOTOPLAY  MARKET 

work  any  appreciation  of  the  requirements  of  the 
so-called  silver  screen.  As  many  as  two  hundred 
unsolicited  manuscripts  are  received  in  a  day  in 
the  offices  of  large  motion  picture  concerns.  Of 
these  manuscripts,  it  is  said,  not  more  than  .001 
per  cent,  are  worth  considering.  And  of  those 
worthy  of  consideration  only  a  very  few  are  ac- 
cepted and  paid  for. 

Because  of  the  tremendous  demand  for  picture 
stories — and  it  is  generally  acknowledged  every- 
where that  there  is  a  greater  demand  for  motion 
picture  stories  than  for  any  other  form  of  the 
literary  art — practically  every  producer  has  to 
depend  for  the  most  part  upon  his  own  staff  of 
scenario  writers.  At  the  same  time  he  is  con- 
stantly on  the  lookout  for  good  stories,  whether 
they  appear  in  the  form  of  unsolicited  manu- 
scripts or  are  published  in  magazines  or  books. 
Beside  the  staif  of  scenario  writers  most  pro- 
ducers employ  a  number  of  people  who  spend 
their  time  reading  and  reporting  upon  every 
story  that  is  published  in  magazines  or  in  book 
form.  When  one  of  these  stories  is  found  suit- 
able to  the  needs  of  a  particular  company  the 
scenario  editor  of  that  company  communicates 

[201] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

with  the  author  of  the  story  and  makes  him  an 
offer  for  the  picture  rights  to  the  story. 

§  Why  Many  Scenarios  Are  Rejected. 

Asked  why  so  many  of  the  unsolicited  manu- 
scripts are  rejected,  a  scenario  editor  gave  these 
reasons:  (1)  the  great  majority  are  obviously 
written  by  uneducated  people  who  have  no 
knowledge  of  human  nature  and  who  are  lacking 
in  ideas  and  the  ability  to  write  clearly;  (2)  they 
are  submitted  in  continuity  form;  and  (3)  they 
are  good  stories  but  totally  unsuited,  for  one 
reason  or  another,  to  the  screen  requirements. 

It  would  seem  unnecessary  to  have  to  explain 
that  ideas  and  an  intimate  knowledge  of  human 
nature  form  the  basis  of  eveiy  photoplay  just 
as  they  are  the  foundation  for  every  short  story, 
novel,  and  drama.  If  one  will  take  the  trouble  to 
analyze  various  photoplays  he  will  probably  dis- 
cover that  the  plays  depend  upon  actions  and  re- 
actions, causes  and  effects.  One  character  does 
something  that  is  resisted  by  an  opposite  force. 
This  opposition,  or  reaction,  to  the  original  im- 
pulse brings  about  a  complication,  or  crisis;  and 
this  complication  is  solved  by  further  actions  and 
reactions.  Unless  an  author  is  sufficiently  ac- 
[202] 


THE  PHOTOPLAY  MARKET 

quainted  with  human  behavior  to  know  how  cer- 
tain natures  react  to  various  forces  and  incidents 
the  chances  are,  scenario  editors  will  tell  him,  his 
stories  and  photoplays  will  bring  him  a  great 
many  more  rejection  slips  than  checks. 

Photoplay  producing  has  come  to  be  such  a 
complicated  and  scientific  business,  only  one  who 
is  thoroughly  familiar  with  the  mechanical  de- 
tails of  photographing  a  moving  picture  play  can 
write  a  continuity.  The  continuity  is  a  complete 
description  of  the  properties  used  and  of  the 
action  in  every  scene  of  a  photoplay.  It  contains 
all  the  directions  necessaiy  for  casting,  staging, 
directing,  and  photographing  the  scenario.  Writ- 
ing continuities  is  an  art  in  itself. 

There  is  a  story  about  a  young  and  successful 
author,  a  short  story  writer  who  wrote  Avith  more 
or  less  regularity  for  the  popular  fiction  maga- 
zines. He  wanted  to  get  his  stories  into  moving 
pictures.  So  he  took  a  correspondence  school 
course  in  photoplay  writing.  When  he  had  com- 
pleted the  course  he  wrote  a  story  that  was  im- 
mediately accepted  by  a  magazine.  At  the  same 
time,  with  the  knowledge  acquired  from  the  cor- 
respondence school  course,  he  worked  out  a  con- 
tinuity for  his  story  and  submitted  it  to  a  number 

[203] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

of  photoplay  concerns  all  of  whom  rejected  it. 
Some  months  later,  after  the  story  had  appeared 
in  the  magazine,  he  received  an  offer  for  the  pic- 
ture rights  to  the  story.  The  scenario  editor  who 
bought  the  story  had  also  read  the  continuity. 
He  sent  for  the  author  and  told  him  that  had  he 
submitted  the  original  story  instead  of  the  con- 
tinuity it  would  have  been  purchased.  The  con- 
tinuity, he  explained,  distorted  the  plot  and  gave 
no  idea  of  the  excellence  of  the  story.  Inciden- 
tally, this  author — like  so  many  experienced  fic- 
tion writers — has  never  been  able  to  master  the 
art  of  continuity  writing. 

§  Scenarios  Should  Be  in  Story  Form. 

Most  scenario  editors  agree  that  the  only  sat- 
isfactory waj''  to  submit  a  scenario  is  in  story 
form.  Some  editors  even  refuse  to  read  a  sce- 
nario in  any  other  form.  An  editor  said  not  long 
ago  that  an  unsolicited  continuity  had  practically 
no  chance  of  being  accepted.  This  same  editor 
advised  submitting  a  story  to  the  magazines  be- 
fore sending  it  to  a  photoplay  concern.  A  pub- 
lished story  suitable  to  the  screen  is  more  desired 
and  better  paid  for  than  an  unpublished  story. 

There  are  many  reasons  why  certain  deserving 
[204] 


THE  PHOTOPLAY  MARKET 

stories  are  iinsuited  to  the  photoplay  market.  In 
the  first  place,  between  ten  and  twenty  million 
people  are  said  to  attend  the  movies  every  day, 
and  not  the  same  ones  every  day.  This  gigantic 
audience  is  made  up  of  all  types  and  all  classes, 
the  rich  and  poor,  the  society  man  and  the  day- 
laborer,  the  educated  and  the  uneducated.  Where 
the  so-called  legitimate  theater  makes  no  attempt 
to  please  every  taste  and  all  degrees  of  intelli- 
gence— the  Columbia  Burlesque  attracting  one 
type  of  people,  the  Hippodrome  another,  the 
New  Amsterdam  Roof  a  third,  and  so  on — the 
moving  picture  theater  is  open  to  everybody. 
"The  photoplaywright's  first  and  most  difficult 
problem,"  said  a  scenario  editor,  "is  to  produce 
stories  that  will  appeal  to  everybody  without 
either  offending  the  intelhgence  of  the  educated 
or  over-taxing  the  mental  capacity  of  the  unedu- 
cated." 

§  Study  the  Personalities  of  Stars. 

Then  the  personalities  of  the  stars  must  be 
considered.  Many  excellent  stories  are  rejected 
by  producers  because  they  cannot  be  adapted  to 
the  peculiar  personalities  of  the  stars  in  their  re- 
spective companies.    Most  of  the  stars  in  the  film 

[205] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

world  require  plays  of  a  special  type.  Charles 
Ray,  for  example,  might  make  an  overwhelming 
success  of  a  play  in  which  Charles  Chaplin  would 
be  a  miserable  failure.  John  B anymore  does  one 
kind  of  thing  and  Douglas  Fairbanks  specializes 
in  another.  Mary  Pickford  would  probably  not 
draw  very  great  crowds  to  see  her  in  a  picture 
written  expressly  for  Theda  Bara.  And  so  it 
goes.  If  a  company  has  only  a  man  "lead"  it  is 
quite  useless  to  submit  to  that  company  a  girl 
heroine  story.  It  is  a  good  plan  for  the  would-be 
photoplaywright  to  study  the  personalities  of 
moving  picture  stars  and  to  analyze  the  plays  in 
which  they  appear.  Much  can  be  learned  in  this 
way.  And,  then,  the  photoplaywright  can  make 
a  story  for  a  particular  star.  Stories  written  es- 
pecially for  some  star  are,  it  is  said,  always  in 
demand — when  they  are  well  done. 

The  cost  of  productions  cannot  be  overlooked 
by  the  young  author.  Producing  even  the  sim- 
plest motion  pictures  is  an  expensive  business. 
Costume  dramas,  spectacles,  pictures  requiring 
trick  photography,  double  exposures,  et  cetera, 
and  "stunt"  pictures  of  the  breathless  melodrama 
type  are  best  left  to  the  professional  continuity 
writers  and  scenario  editors.  A  careful  perusal 
[206] 


THE  PHOTOPLAY  MARKET 

of  the  photoplay  trade  papers  will  give  some  idea 
of  the  kind  of  stories  the  producers  are  looking 
for.  For  instance,  here  is  a  notice  clipped  a  short 
time  ago  from  "The  Editor:" 

METRO  PICTURE  CORPORATION,  1540  Broad- 
wa}^.  New  York,  N.  Y.,  J.  E.  Brady,  editor,  says  he  is 
interested  in  modern  stories  with  a  good  outstanding 
theme,  dramatic  or  melodramatic,  with  some  heart 
interest.  It  does  not  at  present  want  costume  ma- 
terial, or  purely  war  stories,  or  Western  of  the  cowboy 
or  Indian  variety.  It  likes  stories  with  an  American 
atmosphere. 

As  the  "photoplay  stage" — the  space  in  which 
occurs  the  main  action  of  a  play — comprises  a 
range  of  fifteen  feet  the  author  may  not,  so  to 
speak,  spread  his  characters  all  over  the  lot  or 
write  a  photoplay  that  could  be  produced  only  on 
the  stage  of  the  New  York  Hippodrome.  Of 
course  there  may  be  occasional  scenes  here  and 
there,  in  a  ballroom,  on  the  beach,  in  a  city  square, 
or  what  not,  but  the  vital  action  of  the  story 
must  take  place  within  the  fifteen  foot  range. 

Another  cause  for  rejecting  certain  scenarios, 
editors  say,  is  that  they  contain  so  much  that  can- 
not be  photographed.  It  is  well  to  remember 
always  that  the  photoplay wright  tells  his  story 
solely  by  means  of  action.    The  thoughts  of  his 

[207] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

characters  and  their  natures  are  shown  in  terms 
of  action.  The  short  story  writer  may  represent 
his  characters  as  carrying  on  a  train  of  involved 
thought,  but  the  photoplaywright  is  Hmited  in 
this  respect  and  therefore  takes  care  not  to  make 
his  characters  too  subtle  or  complicated  for  their 
natures  to  be  revealed  through  their  actions. 

The  photoplay  with  an  unlimited  number  of 
dramatis  personw  is  pretty  sure  to  be  returned  to 
its  creator.  Producers  seem  to  think  that  the 
number  of  chief  characters  should  be  kept  down 
to  five. 

§  Prices  Paid  hy  Producers  for  Photoplays. 

The  general  misunderstanding  regarding  the 
prices  paid  by  producers  for  photoplays  is  wide- 
spread. A  concern  which  is  backed  by  a  number 
of  the  best  known  moving  picture  companies 
wrote  in  one  of  its  recent  advertisements:  "The 
motion  picture  industry  must  have  new  scenarios. 
...  It  is  willing  to  pay  fortunes  for  these 
stories;  it  is  ready  to  crown  the  successful 
scenario  writers  with  fame  and  maintain  them 
in  luxury."  The  spirit  may  be  willing  but  the 
flesh  seems  to  be  pretty  weak.  However  willing 
the  motion  picture  industry  may  be  to  pay  for- 
[208] 


THE  PHOTOPLAY  MARKET 

tunes  for  stories  and  to  crown  the  "successful 
scenario  writers  with  fame  and  to  maintain  them 
in  luxury"  the  fact  remains  that  the  industry 
rarely  pays  large  sums  for  stories  and  that  there 
are  a  number  of  successful  scenario  writers  who 
have  not  been  crowned  with  fame  or  even  main- 
tained in  luxury.  Once  in  a  while,  and  rather 
a  long"  while  at  that,  $25,000  or  $50,000  or  maybe 
a  bit  more  is  paid  for  the  picture  rights  to  a  story. 
As  a  rule  the  most  successful  sales  are  nearer 
$2,500  or  $5,000,  and  the  average  sales  are  some- 
where around  $500.  A  few,  very  few,  prominent 
authors,  who  are  featured,  have  royalty  arrange- 
ments with  producers.  It  is  said  on  good  au- 
thority that  Lasky  paid  only  $7,500  for  the  pic- 
ture rights  to  "The  Sheik,"  one  of  the  best  selling 
moving  pictures  of  1922. 

The  preparation  of  the  photoplay  manuscript 
is  not  an  immensely  important  matter.  Scenario 
editors  do  not  seem  to  be  so  particular  about  the 
appearance  of  a  manuscript  as  are  magazine  and 
book  editors.  Only  a  short  time  ago  a  scenario 
editor  announced  that  he  would  read  every  manu- 
script submitted  to  him  whether  it  was  typed  or 
handwritten,  whether  it  was  on  colored  paper, 
legal  paper,  or  wrapping  paper.    Be  that  as  it 

[209] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

may,  a  number  of  editors  confessed  that  the 
manuscripts  that  first  catch  their  interest  are  the 
manuscripts  that  are  neatly  typewritten  in  double 
spacing  on  white  paper,  about  8I/2  x  11  inches. 
The  most  satisfactory  and  pleasing  arrangement 
of  the  reading  matter  seems  to  be  to  devote  the 
first  page  to  the  title,  the  name  and  address  of 
the  author,  a  classification  of  the  photoplay — 
Feature  comedy-drama  suggested  for  Thomas 
Meigan,  or  Two  reel  comedy,  or  whatever  it  is — 
and  the  size  of  the  cast.  The  next  pages  as  a 
rule  give  the  following  data  in  the  order  stated : 
a  very  brief  synopsis,  from  250  to  1200  words, 
sketching  the  theme  of  the  play;  the  character 
cast — a  list  of  the  important  characters  with  a 
description  of  each ;  and  the  scenario  or  working 
synopsis  of  the  play — this  is  generally  written  in 
story  form  and  requires  as  many  as  six  or  seven 
thousand  words,  sometimes  more,  to  do  it  justice. 

§  Scenarios  Are  Expanded  Synopses. 

The  scenario,  editors  say,  does  not  have  to  be 
a  finished  short  story.  It  does  not  go  into  the 
details  necessary  to  the  short  story,  nor  does  it 
have  the  Uterary  polish.  As  a  rule  it  has  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  individuahty,  and  moves  logi- 
[210] 


THE  PHOTOPLAY  MARKET 

cally,  swiftly,  and  progressively  along  a  single 
channel.  It  contains  very  little  dialogue.  The 
first  part  of  the  scenario,  the  introductory  para- 
graphs, is  called  the  Premise.  This  is  followed 
by  the  Complication,  which  is  the  story  proper, 
dealing  with  the  incidents  that  lead  up  to  the 
climax.  Finally  comes  the  Solution,  which  is  the 
denouement,  the  conclusion  to  the  storj'-. 

Titles  are  subject  to  change  more  or  less  with- 
out notice.  But  if  the  photoplaywright  is  able 
to  head  his  scenario  with  a  compelling,  artful  title 
so  much  the  better.  A  fresh,  suggestive  title  is 
pretty  sure  to  arouse  the  curiosity  of  an  editor 
and  divert  his  interest  to  the  story  under  it. 
Short  titles  are  said  to  be  best.  The  usual  title 
contains  not  more  than  seventeen  letters.  Why 
seventeen?  Because  only  a  very  few  of  the  elec- 
tric signs  used  above  the  entrances  to  moving  pic- 
ture theaters  are  large  enough  to  accommodate  a 
title  of  more  than  seventeen  letters. 

When  a  scenario  is  accepted  it  is  sent  to  the 
studio  where  the  continuity  writer  prepares  the 
continuity  for  the  director.  The  scenario  editor 
or  the  director  or  sometimes  the  star  may  make 
changes  in  this  continuity.  A  few  directors  work 
directly  from  the  scenarios.    It  is  said  that  D.  W. 

[211] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

Griffith,  who  staged  "The  Birth  of  a  Nation," 
"Orphans  of  the  Storm,"  and  other  successes, 
directs  his  productions  without  the  aid  of  a  con- 
tinuity, carrying  the  details  of  the  story  in  his 
mind  only  and  working  out  the  development  of 
each  scene  as  he  goes  along.  Mr.  Griffith  has  a 
remarkable  memory  and  there  are  probably  few 
other  directors  who  are  capable  of  successfully 
directing  photoplays  in  this  unusual  manner. 

After  all  the  scenes  have  been  "shot"  or  pho- 
tographed, the  films  go  to  the  "cutting  editor" 
who  assembles  the  scenes  and  fastens  them  to- 
gether in  the  desired  order.  A  number  of  pho- 
tographs are  taken  of  each  scene  and  it  is  the 
duty  of  the  cutting  editor,  sometimes  assisted  by 
the  director  and  others,  to  select  the  best  of  these 
when  assembhng  the  film.  When  the  films  have 
been  arranged  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  cutting 
editor  the  "title  man"  writes  the  necessary  titles 
and  has  them  inserted  in  the  right  places. 

§  Protecting   the  Non-Copyrighted  Scenario. 

Moving   picture    producers    have    frequently 
been  accused  of  plagiarising  unsolicited  manu- 
scripts and  published  stories.    "Beyond  question 
there  is  chicanery  in  the  motion  picture  business," 
[212] 


THE  PHOTOPLAY  MARKET 

wrote  an  authority  on  the  subject  several  years 
ago.  "On  the  western  coast  some  little  shyster 
company  starts  up  each  week,  puts  out  a  flaunt- 
ing sign,  gathers  up  bushels  of  scripts,  and  dis- 
appears. Other  companies,  while  advertising 
that  they  will  pay  good  prices  for  stories,  have 
stuff  written  up  in  their  own  studios  from  ideas 
gratuitously  obtained."  There  are  tricksters  in 
every  trade,  but  there  seems  to  be  less  chicanery 
in  the  photoplay  industry  today  than  when  the 
above  was  written.  However,  there  are  ways  of 
protecting  scenarios  that  have  not  been  copy* 
righted.  The  Authors'  League  of  America,  for 
instance,  conducts  a  registration  bureau  for  the 
registration  and  protection  of  non-copyrighted 
scenarios ;  and  scenarios  can  also  be  filed  with  the 
United   States  Copyright  Department. 

Published  books  and  short  stories  are  submit- 
ted to  motion  picture  concerns  by  the  pubhshers, 
through  hterary  agencies,  and  by  the  authors 
themselves.  The  best  time  to  submit  a  story  to  a 
photoplay  concern  is  just  after  it  has  been  ac- 
Icepted  by  a  publisher.  In  such  a  case  a  letter  is 
generally  sent  with  the  manuscript  stating  that 
the  story  has  been  accepted  by  such  and  such  a 
publisher  and  is  scheduled  for  publication  on  this 

[213] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

or  that  date.  The  photoplay  producer,  if  he  de- 
cides to  buy  the  picture  rights  to  the  story,  can 
then  arrange  to  release  the  picturization  within  a 
reasonable  time  after  the  publication  of  the  story 
so  that  the  picture  will  profit  by  the  publisher's 
advertising  of  the  pubHshed  story. 

§  Giving  the  Author  Credit  on  the  Screen, 

When  an  author  sells  the  picture  play  rights  to 
a  story  that  has  been,  or  is  about  to  be,  published 
it  is  customary  for  the  producer  to  include  a 
clause  in  the  contract  providing  that  the  name  of 
the  author  and  the  original  title  of  the  story  shall 
be  shown  on  the  screen  with  the  picturization  of 
the  story.  A  number  of  photoplay  producers  do 
not  care  to  feature  the  name  of  a  young  or  not 
very  well  known  author,  with  the  result  that  more 
than  one  author  has  seen  the  photoplay  taken 
from  his  novel  shown  on  the  screen  under  a  new 
title  and  under  the  names  of  the  producer,  di- 
rector, photographer,  continuity  writer,  and  title 
man ;  the  author  himself  receiving  no  credit. 

An  author  of  a  copyrighted  work  sold  to  a  pro- 
ducer has  also  the  right  to  demand  that  the  pro- 
ducer mention  the  author's  name  and  the  original 
title  of  the  story  in  all  bill  posters,  circulars,  and 
[214] 


THE  PHOTOPLAY  MARKET 

other  publicity  matter  dis-tributed  by  the  pro- 
ducer to  advertise  the  picturization  of  the  story. 
It  seems  only  fair  that  the  author  of  a  story  from 
which  a  motion  picture  has  been  made  should  re- 
ceive full  credit  for  having  created  the  story. 

Sometimes  advance  proofs  of  a  storj^  scheduled 
for  early  publication  are  sent  out  to  several  pro- 
ducers simultaneously.  This  a  perfectly  legiti- 
mate procedure.  But  when  an  author  does  this 
he  is  generally  expected  to  notify  all  the  com- 
panies to  whom  he  has  sent  the  proofs  when  he 
has  accepted  an  offer  for  the  picture  rights  to  the 
story. 


[215] 


XI 

BOOK    EEVIEWING    AND    OTHER    LITERARY    CHORES 

AVERY  considerable  army  of  people  engage 
in  writing  as  a  business  who  do  not  write 
successful  fiction,  nor  successful  plays,  nor  suc- 
cessful scenarios.  Many  of  them  are  successful 
enough,  in  their  way,  as  journalists.  These  may 
be  editorial  writers,  or  newspaper  "correspond- 
ents," or  writers  of  special  articles  for,  say,  the 
weekly  magazines,  or  reporters  of  various  sorts 
and  degrees.  Others  may  be  press  agents  of 
divers  kinds,  and  what  not. 

Not  a  few  of  the  younger  of  these  professional 
writers  cheerily  regard  their  occupation  as  a  more 
or  less  temporary  means  of  gaining  a  livelihood, 
a  marking  of  time,  a  stop-gap  until  the  happy 
day  to  which  they  aspire  when,  by  efforts  outside 
their  routine  work,  they  shall  have  acquired  the 
opportunity  to  devote  themselves  to  creative 
work — and  to  write  what  they  really  "want  to." 
There  is,  of  course,  in  the  annals  of  literature 
plenty  of  precedent  for  such  a  spirit. 
[216] 


LITERARY  CHORES 

Some  members  of  this  populous  company  of 
work-a-day  writers  have  on  a  time  happened,  so 
to  say,  to  ring  the  bell  a  little  while  with  work 
of  more  popular  character,  and  live  in  the  hope 
that  they  may  chance  do  so  again — sometime. 
Such  things  have  been  done. 

Others  have  hard  bought  self  Avisdom;  and 
have  philosophically  adapted  themselves  to  the 
fact  (which  they  have  recognized  as  true)  that 
they  have  not  the  flame.  Well,  there  is  this  to 
be  said:  the  curse  of  genius  does  not  smite  them 
still.  Men  and  women  frequently  have  the 
calmness  of  spirit  to  enjoy  much  more  deeply 
the  great  works  of  literature  when  they  have 
ceased  to  fret  themselves  with  the  fever  of  yearn- 
ing to  make  some.  And  an  intelligent  view  of 
the  literature  of  the  day  may  be  perceptibly 
increased  when  one  has  adopted  the  disinterested 
role  of,  so  to  say,  a  non-combatant. 

§  Success  Without  Applause. 

Then,  strange  as  it  may  seem  to  many  burning 
souls,  there  are  many  hard  writing  men  who 
suffer  nothing  for  literary  ambition's  sake.  Ex- 
cellent writing  men  among  them,  too.  And  men 
who  know  much  of  literature,  both  transient  and 

[217] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

endui'ing.  Writing  is  their  business;  they  (not 
a  few)  take  pride  in  the  conscientious  character 
of  their  workmanship,  and  enjoy  the  respect  of 
their  colleagues.  They  are  completely  devoted 
to  their  business  and  could  not  countenance  the 
thought  of  any  other.  But  on  their  waj^  down 
to  the  substantial  atmosphere  of  "the  office,"  or 
wherever  their  path  of  duty  leads  them  for  the 
day,  it  does  not  occur  to  them  to  astonish  the 
world,  nor,  indeed,  to  seek  any  applause  at  all. 
When  a  friend  suggests  to  one  of  them  that  he 
"ought  to"  write  a  book  (like  such  or  such  a  one 
which  has  just  made  such  a  hit)  like  as  not  he 
brushes  the  idea  aside  with  amusement  as  a  little 
joke. 

Much  persuasion  by  his  publishers  has  to  be 
brought  to  bear  on  one  of  the  most  capable  edi- 
torial writers  in  the  country  to  induce  him  from 
time  to  time  to  collect  his  scattered  magazine 
articles  into  a  volume  of  "essays."  "What's  the 
use?"  is  his  comment.  Well,  they  are  quite  worth 
preserving  for  the  delectation  of  a  rather  select 
audience  of  very  fair  proportions  for  that  kind  of 
thing.  When  pressed  to  write  a  "real"  book — a 
sustained  work  of  serious  purpose,  and  a  thing 
of  which  he  is  eminently  capable — this  cultivated 
[218] 


LITERARY  CHORES 

gentleman's  quiet  reply  is:  No,  he  is  simply  a 
commentator  upon  the  shifting  scene — his  field  is 
"marginalia."  He  leads  a  life  of  intellectual  dig- 
nity and  is  content. 

One  of  the  best  known  of  New  York's  dra- 
matic critics  has  steadily  refused  all  publishers' 
solicitations  for  a  book,  though  now  and  then 
(as  a  sort  of  lark,  apparently)  he  writes  a  maga- 
zine article  (having  nothing  to  do  with  the  .thea- 
ter) of  much  wit  and  charm.  One  of  the  most 
widely  read  of  New  York  newspaper  "colum- 
nists" recently  pooh-poohed  the  insistent  urging 
of  the  publishers  of  former  books  of  his  that  he 
put  together  another  volume  of  his  "stuff,"  de- 
claring that  the  material  was  too  slight  in  charac- 
ter to  be  reprinted  in  such  a  form.  He  is,  indeed, 
a  man  who  knows  eveiybody,  goes  everywhere, 
sees  everything,  reads  everything — enjoys  both 
life  and  literature  hugely.  And  then  there  is  a 
writer  well  known  for  his  essays  and  biographical 
studies  who  when  urged  by  a  couple  of  distin- 
guished writing  friends  of  his  to  write  a  novel 
replied:  "But  aren't  there  enough  unreadable 
novels  being  turned  out  by  almost  everybody 
now?" 

And  the  dream  of  the  average  newspaperman 

[219] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

in  a  great  city  is  to  some  day  run  a  small-town 
paper  of  his  own. 

§  The  Adventure  of  Making  a  Living. 

Very  little  is  said  about  the  phase  of  the  writ- 
ing business  which  has  just  been  indicated.  The 
point  in  here  glancing  at  the  matter  is  this :  The 
hterary  aspirant  is  apt  to  have  a  somewhat 
warped  view  of  the  situation,  and  to  count  very 
much  out  of  its  true  proportions  a  very  obvious 
kind  of  success.  There  are  writers  and  wi'iters, 
and  there  is  a  good  deal  in  the  "literary  hfe"  be- 
side the  tumult  and  the  shouting.  Wasn't  it 
Caroljm  Wells  who  one  time  remarked  that  the 
best  of  the  rewards  in  her  career  was  her  associa- 
tion with  the  people  she  met?  But  the  real  core 
of  the  matter  is  an  indestructible  interest  in  the 
thing  itself — in  writing.  If  you  have  that  you 
cannojt  fail,  whatever  your  fortunes  in  the  world ; 
because  the  fullness  of  your  reward  comes  from 
within  you,  and  there  none  can  break  in  and 
steal.  Wilham  Hazlitt  had  a  devil  of  a. tune  of 
it  in  this  life,  but  when  he  came  to  die  he  re- 
marked:   "Well,  I  have  had  a  happy  life." 

But  man  cannot  live  by  love  for  literature 
alone.  There  is  the  problem  of  making  a  living, 
[220] 


LITERARY  CHORES 

or  rather  let  us  call  it  the  adventure.  A  thought 
common  among  those  who  hope  some  day  to 
write  books  of  their  own  is  that  they  will  make  a 
beginning  toward  that  end  by  reviewing  books 
already  written  by  others.  But  how  to  make  this 
beginning? 

§  How  Many  Newspapers  Fill  Up 
Their  Booh  Columns, 

Something  which  looks  like  a  section  of  book 
reviews  appears  in  a  great  many  newspapers. 
The  "literary  notices"  of  the  papers  in  smaller 
places,  however,  frequently  are  nothing  more 
than  publicity  material  sent  out  by  the  publishers 
and  "pasted  up,"  as  the  expression  is;  that  is, 
what  are  called  the  "canned  reviews"  written  in 
the  offices  of  the  pubHshers  are  clipped  from  the 
"clip  sheets"  supplied  gratuitous  to  all  news- 
papers, stuck  on  to  pages  of  copy  paper,  and, 
with  little  or  no  editing,  sent  to  the  compositor. 
Naturally,  this  matter  is  all  eulogistic.  An  inter- 
esting story  is  related  by  a  man  who  conducts 
very  successfully  a  syndicate  which  sells  various 
forms  of  service  to  newspapers.  He  endeavored 
to  interest  a  number  of  papers  in  the  idea  of  sub- 
scribing for  a  weekly  "literary  letter"  to  be  sup- 

[221] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

plied  by  a  writer  on  literary  subjects  of  national 
reputation  and  an  attractive  and  popular  style. 
The  feature  would  have  cost  small  papers  very 
little  each,  and  its  news  of  authors  and  survey 
of  current  books  would,  of  course,  have  been  im- 
partial. They  answered,  however,  most  of  them, 
by  saying  that  they  did  not  see  why  they  should 
pay  anything  for  such  material  when  they  got 
"the  same  thing"  free  from  the  publishers. 

Publishers  do  not,  of  course,  send  review  copies 
of  their  books  to  the  newspapers  in  small  com- 
munities. To  do  this  would  mean  a  greatly  ex- 
cessive distribution  of  free  copies.  The  news- 
paper of  a  small  town  has  neither  the  space  nor 
the  audience  to  make  such  a  procedure  profitable 
to  the  pubHsher.  The  publicity  department  of  a 
publishing  house  chooses  pretty  carefully  the  list 
of  newspapers  to  which  review  copies  of  each  of 
its  books  are  to  go.  Only  the  papers  in  the  half 
dozen  or  so  greater  cities  get  nearly  everything. 
Many  important  or  expensive  books  are  sent  out 
for  review  rather  sparingly. 

§  Book  Reviewing  for  Small  Town  Papers. 

Newspapers  in  the  smaller  cities,  though  they 
receive  a  goodly  number  of  review  volumes,  fre- 
[222] 


LITERARY  CHORES 

quently  cannot  afford  to  employ  a  literary  edi- 
tor; nor  would  such  a  person  have  enough  to  do 
where  little  more  than  a  couple  of  colunms  per- 
haps less  often  than  once  a  week  can  be  devoted 
to  the  subject  of  books.  The  city  editor,  maybe, 
attends  in  odd  moments  to  so  inconsequential  a 
matter  as  literature.  [Or,  in  some  cases,  almost 
anyone  about  the  place.]  He  may  write  all  the 
book  notices  himself,  or  his  wife  may  write  a  few 
now  and  then  for  literary  exercise.  He  does  not 
make  much  of  a  practice  of  giving  out  books  for 
review  on  a  business  basis.  In  little  cities  the 
man  in  charge  of  the  book  notices  for  a  news- 
paper there  may  every  once  in  a  while  give  a  book 
to  someone  locally  known  for  literary  interests  or 
attainments  for  a  piece  about  it.  In  such  cases 
oftentimes  the  reviewer  gets  the  book  to  keep  for 
his  work,  and  nothing  more.  Indeed,  a  number 
of  struggling  magazines  of  a  literary  tendency 
and  read  more  or  less  beyond  the  boundaries  of 
their  own  locality  reward  their  reviewers  with 
nothing  more  than  the  books  they  review. 

It  may  be  remarked  by  the  way  that  every  now 
and  then  one  comes  upon  a  most  excellent  book 
review  in  a  "provincial"  newspaper,  written,  very 
probably,  by  one  not  at  all  actively  engaged  in 

[223] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

reviewing,  but,  obviously,  by  a  genuine  student 
of  literature.  One  is  tempted  to  say  that  the 
quality  of  the  reviewing  in  the  metropolitan 
papers  is  much  better  than  it  used  to  be.  And 
yet  maybe  one  can  be  too  sure  of  that.  A  num- 
ber of  the  newspapers  of  New  York  and  other 
leading  eastern  cities  a  couple  of  decades  or  so 
ago  had  literary  pages  of  altogether  noble  char- 
acter. Perhaps  they  were  a  little  heavy  in  effect 
as  such  things  go  to-day.  But  sprightly  literary 
criticism  did  not  come  into  American  newspapers 
with  the  sudden  rise  of  the  present  younger  gen- 
eration, as  numerous  members  of  that  company 
apparently  suppose.  This  fact  an  examination 
of  the  files  some  ten  years  back  of  perhaps  the 
best  known  newspaper  in  the  United  States  will 
very  distinctly  show. 

§  Specialists  and  the  Signed  Review. 

The  situation  has,  however,  altered  in  quite 
recent  years.  All  in  all,  considerably  more  space 
is  given  to  books  in  the  leading  newspapers  of  the 
country  today  than  was  the  case  a  few  years  ago. 
There  is  a  decidedly  increased  amount  of  pub- 
lishers' advertising.  More  people,  in  all  likeli- 
hood, read  book  reviews  now  than  formerly. 
[224] 


LITERARY  CHORES 

Much  greater  space  than  was  possible  not  long 
ago  is  now,  because  of  the  remarkably  increased 
general  interest  in  such  works,  given  to  books  of 
distinctly  literary  character.  The  signed  review 
has  become  much  more  general.  This,  doubtless, 
has  made  for  more  responsibility.  Where  for- 
merly the  facile  pen  of  the  professional  hack  re- 
viewer ordinarily  sufficed,  the  tendency  now  is  to 
obtain  the  judgment  of  specialists  living  every- 
where. And  the  vogue  of  the  columnists  (men 
of  letters  as  well  as  wits )  has  done  much  to  stimu- 
late a  popular  taste  for  literary  journalism. 

How  does  one  go  about  the  matter  of  becoming 
a  book  reviewer?  As  has  been  shown,  to  derive 
any  appreciable  revenue  from  such  a  source  it  is 
necessary  to  deal  with  the  newspapers  of  a  large 
city  and  the  well-established  magazines  which  de- 
vote attention  to  current  literature.  A  thing 
frequently  done  by  the  novice  is  to  send  to  a 
literary  editor,  without  any  preliminaiy  negotia- 
tion, a  review  of  a  book  published  any  time  within 
the  preceding  two  or  three  months.  There  is 
very  little  or  no  Hkelihood  of  such  an  article  being 
used.  A  short  story  or  an  article  not  dealing 
with  a  topic  of  the  moment  may  be  good  any 
time;  but  a  book  review  is  a  highly  perishable 

[225] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

commodity.  Literary  editors  usually  make  a 
good  deal  of  a  point  of  promptness  in  handling 
their  material.  And  publishers  are  very  keen 
about  early  reviews.  A  common  practice  with 
their  more  important  books  is  for  them  to  send 
out  for  review  advance  copies  or  "sheets"  (un- 
bound volumes),  with  a  word  stating  the  "re- 
lease date"  for  the  review.  Their  hope  is  that 
the  reviews  (at  least  a  number  of  them)  will 
appear  in  print  on  or  shortly  after  the  date  of 
publication  of  the  book.  Quarterly  journals,  of 
course,  cannot  pursue  a  policy  of  journalistic 
timeliness;  and  thej^  endeavor  to  compensate  for 
this  circumstance  by  a  more  pondered  quality  in 
their  reviews. 

§  Some  Ways  of  Getting  Boohs  to  Review. 

The  distinguished  editor  of  one  of  the  most 
successful  literary  sections  of  a  New  York  news- 
paper recently  was  asked  if  there  was  anything 
he  would  care  to  say  that  might  be  of  service  to 
readers  of  these  pages.  He  made  with  a  good 
deal  of  vigor  a  complaint.  It  was  that  so  many 
people  come  in  (and  so  many  write  in)  to  say 
that  they  want  to  do  reviewing,  but  give  him  no 
idea  of  what  sort  of  books  they  are  particularly 
[226] 


LITERARY  CHORES 

concerned  with.  When  a  person  has  such  an  in- 
terview with  an  editor  what  is  the  customary 
happening?  The  editor  (to  politely  get  rid  of 
him)  takes  down  his  name  and  address,  intimat- 
ing that  he  may  send  him  some  books  before  a 
great  while — and  that  is  the  end  of  the  matter. 
The  course  more  likely  to  lead  to  some  success 
is  this:  The  caller  (or  the  one  who  writes  the 
editor  a  letter)  to  state  at  once  the  field  of  his 
special  interest,  and  (this,  at  least,  should  do  no 
harm)  to  ask  for  certain  books  which  have  just 
been  published  or  are  about  to  be  published. 
Later  it  is  not  a  bad  idea  for  the  applicant  to 
check  in  the  pubhshers'  lists  of  advance  an- 
nouncements the  titles  of  books  which  he  feels 
particularly  qualified  to  write  about  and  to  send 
these  lists  to  the  editor  he  has  called  upon.  Not 
a  bad  idea,  that  is,  if  it  is  not  overdone.  Though 
persons  looking  for  books  to  review  have  some- 
times in  this  way  pestered  literary  editors  out  of 
all  consideration  for  themselves. 

§  Letters  of  Recommendation 
Often  "Scraps  of  Paper." 

The  showing  of  examples  of  work  done  else- 
where may  be  useful.     Letters  of  recommenda- 

^  [227] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

tion  are  often  valueless.  Much  depends  upon  the 
position  of  the  writer  of  the  letter.  Certainly 
there  is  no  advantage  to  be  gained  by  presenting 
a  letter  by  someone  "back  home"  (an  instructor 
in  Enghsh,  perhaps,  or  a  clergyman)  that  the 
editor  never  heard  of.  The  editor,  very  prob- 
ably, would  not  be  particularly  inclined  to  give 
him  a  book  to  review.  And  too  much  reliance  is 
frequently  placed  upon  letters  of  introduction 
from  men  of  position  in  the  hterary  world.  Such 
letters  very  often  are  merely  perfunctory,  and 
are  discounted  as  such  by  the  editor  to  whom  they 
are  addressed.  Though  now  and  then  one  of 
them  leads  to  a  happy  chance.  A  writer  and 
editor  of  considerable  name  and  an  easy  going 
temper  (and  one  who  has  contributed  more  than 
a  little  to  the  substance  of  these  chapters)  had 
given  out  so  many  letters  of  introduction  with  no 
result  that  he  had  come  to  expect  nothing  ever  to 
happen  from  them.  In  fact,  he  fell  into  the  mood 
of  regarding  it  as  something  of  a  little  joke  on  his 
editor  friends  whenever  he  sent  around  a  new 
chap  with  a  bunch  of  letters.  Then  one  day  a 
youth  came  back  within  a  short  time  from  a  great 
newspaper  with  a  number  of  books.  The  amiable 
writer  of  letters  of  introduction  was  somewhat 
[228] 


LITERARY  CHORES 

startled :  he  wondered  whether  or  not  his  protege 
had  a  particle  of  ability.  A  bona  fide  friend  of 
influence  in  editorial  circles  every  now  and  then 
does  give  the  newcomer  a  good  deal  of  help  in 
obtaining  books  to  review,  and  other  literary 
chores.  A  very  popular  reviewer  who  was  a 
chum  of  a  literary  editor  one  time  took  away 
with  him  a  book  which  he  said  he  wanted  for  a 
friend  of  his  to  review.  His  friend  was  unknown 
to  this  literary  editor,  or  to  any  other ;  and  he  had 
never  written  a  book  review  in  his  life.  He  soon 
rivaled  his  patron,  the  star  reviewer  on  that 
paper,  and  not  long  afterward  was  invited  to 
become  the  literary  editor  of  another  metropoli- 
tan journal.  Matters  do  not,  however,  happen 
that  way  right  along.  Usually  a  good  deal  of 
leg  work  is  required  to  become  a  reviewer — the 
potential  critic  must  continually  make  the  round 
of  many  editorial  offices. 

§  Observe  Various  Editorial  Policies. 

In  the  matter  of  reviewing,  as  in  the  case  of 
any  other  form  of  writing,  it  is  a  sensible  thing 
to  study  the  character  of  the  journal  to  which  one 
purposes  to  contribute.  Though,  again  as  in  any 
other  form  of  writing,  it  is,  of  course,  a  very  f ool- 

[229] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

ish  thing  to  do  to  attempt  slavishly  to  imitate 
anything  as  a  model  of  style.  It  is  merely  a  fact, 
obvious  enough,  that  a  review  which  goes  very 
well  in  one  place  oftentimes  would  not  fit  into  the 
scheme  of  things  of  an  editor  somewhere  else. 
Reviewers  for  publications  of  any  standing  at  all 
are  left  quite  free  to  express  their  own  opinions. 
At  the  same  time,  anyone  may  observe,  the  tem- 
per of  some  journals  is  one  of  restraint  of  style 
in  adverse  criticism;  books  are  seldom  hit  very 
hard.  In  other  journals  there  is  a  tendency  to- 
ward more  directness  of  manner.  And  just  now 
a  spirit  of  rather  ebullient  and  caustic  criticism 
is  having  something  of  a  vogue  here  and  there. 

Reviewers  are  free  to  express  their  own  opin- 
ions. Such  things  have  happened  as  thisj  Not 
long  ago  a  man  who  had  been  contributing  fea- 
ture articles  to  one  of  the  foremost  of  New  York 
newspapers  more  or  less  regularly  for  about  ten 
years  got  out  a  book.  The  book  was  made  up 
very  largely  of  articles  which  had  appeared  in 
this  paper.  The  author's  work  was  much  es- 
teemed by  the  editor  of  the  paper,  by  the  literary 
editor  and  by  the  paper's  columnist,  all  personal 
friends  of  his.  The  book  was  given  out  for  re- 
view to  a  well-known  critic  who  had  heretofore 
[230] 


LITERARY  CHORES 

reviewed  favorably  this  author's  books.  He  took 
a  dislike  to  this  one,  and  wrote  of  it  in  rather 
a  contemptuous  manner.  The  review  was 
promptly  published.  Once  in  a  great  while  a 
literary  editor  questions  the  soundness  of  judg- 
ment expressed  in  a  review,  or  suspects  that  its 
hostility  toward  the  book  maj'  have  been  actuated 
by  malice,  and  holds  it  up  for  personal  investiga- 
tion, or  maybe  "kills"  it.  Reviewers  occasionally 
complain  that  the  point  has  been  left  out  of  their 
review  when  it  appears  in  print.  And  it  is  quite 
true  that  a  reviewer's  balanced  judgment  of  a 
book  sometimes  is  upset  when  his  editor  "cuts" 
the  article  to  fit  space.  The  personal  equation, 
of  course,  enters  into  reviewing  as  into  pretty 
much  everything  else;  and  a  literary  editor  or  a 
reviewer  who  is  the  friend  of  an  author  is  likely 
to  be,  with  no  dishonesty  of  mind,  friendly  to  his 
book.  And  sometimes,  it  may  be  discerned,  a 
literary  editor  or  a  reviewer  who  has  taken  an 
aversion  to  an  author  is,  with  a  little  less  honesty 
of  mind,  impelled  to  a  scornful  treatment  of  his 
book. 

It  is  frequently  said  in  a  waggish  way  that  re- 
viewers never  read  the  books  they  review.  Well, 
a  man  long  familiar  with  horses  does  not  have  to 

[231] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

spend  a  day  with  a  horse  to  note  its  points.  In 
the  case  of  many  books  the  experienced  reviewer 
would  not  in  all  probability  write  a  better  review 
if  he  read  the  book  twice  through  than  the  one  he 
writes 'after  a  skillful  reading  around  in  it.  Still, 
it  is  highly  advisable  for  the  inexpert  reviewer 
to  acquaint  himself  pretty  well  with  the  book  be- 
fore him.  Some  very  ludicrous  blunders  have 
resulted,  even  with  experienced  reviewers,  from 
too  much  reliance  upon  intuition  as  to  what  the 
book  was  about.  Sometime  ago  a  hurried  re- 
viewer of  a  novel  by  a  well-known  woman 
literary  editor  married  (in  his  review)  a  fourteen 
year  child  in  the  story  to  her  grandfather.  He 
(this  reviewer)  did  not  live  happily  immediately 
afterward. 

§  Perhaps  the  Poorest  Paid  Work  in  the  World. 

Reviewing  in  general  is,  perhaps,  the  poorest 
paid  work  in  the  world.  Certainly  it  would 
seem  to  be  when  you  consider  the  effort  and  re- 
quired equipment  involved.  The  reviewer  whose 
name  is  not  sought  by  literary  editors  must  trot 
around  town  on  his  quest  for  books.  Weeks,  or 
months  maybe,  after  he  has  called  upon  an  editor 
he  receives  a  book  or  two  from  him — perhaps. 
[232] 


LITERARY  CHORES 

He  deyotes  more  or  less  time  to  reading  the  book. 
Perhaps  he  feels  it  advisable  to  refresh  his  mem- 
ory of  other  books  by  this  author.  Maybe  a  num- 
ber of  matters  seem  to  require  to  be  looked  up 
and  verified.  Then  there  is  the  work  of  writing 
his  article.  It  is  necessary  for  him  to  bother  with 
taking  it,  or  sending  it,  to  the  editor. 

Payment  for  book  reviews,  to  the  outside  re- 
viewer, is  practically  always  on  pubhcation.  An 
editor  may  urge  a  reviewer  to  much  haste  and 
then  find  himself,  for  one  reason  or  another, 
unable  to  fit  in  the  review  for  some  time.  A 
check  arrives  usually  about  a  week  after  the  re- 
view appears.  Payment  from  newspapers  ranges 
from  about  six  dollars  to  from  eight  to  twelve 
dollars  a  column;  approximately  a  thousand 
words  to  a  column.  Some  newspapers  deduct 
space  allotted  to  "heads"  and  quotations  from 
the  book.  Literary  magazines  do  pretty  well 
when  paying  a  cent  and  a  half  a  word. 

Signed  reviews,  of  course,  bring  in  indirect  re- 
ward in  making  their  author  better  known.  Per- 
sons of  illustrious  name  sometimes  are  paid  con- 
siderable sums  for  reviews.  The  highest  paid 
book  reviewer  on  record  was  ex-President 
Roosevelt.    He  asked  nothing.    But  on  one  occa- 

[233] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

sion,  at  least,  in  payment  for  one  review  he  was 
sent  a  check  by  a  New  York  newspaper  for  an 
amount  gi-eater  than  many  a  good  author  receives 
as  the  entire  profit  from  a  book.  Well  known 
writers  not  infrequently  are  paid  decidedly  in 
excess  of  space  rates  for  book  reviews.  And,  on 
the  other  hand,  every  once  in  a  while  such  writers 
as  Rupert  Hughes  and  Irvin  Cobb,  or  such  per- 
sonages as  David  Jayne  Hill,  amiably  accept  a 
check  for  something  like  fourteen  dollars  and 
forty-nine  cents  for  a  carefully  written  book  re- 
view. A  reviewer  having  a  "desk  job,"  and  that 
would  likely  be  a  literary  editor  or  assistant  liter- 
ary editor,  has  a  fair  salary,  as  things  go  in  the 
literary  world. 

§  Field  of  the  ''Feature  Story." 

The  magazine  sections  of  city  newspapers  and 
the  illustrated  weekly  magazines  of  national  cir- 
culation furnish  a  field  for  a  form  of  journalism 
known  as  the  "feature  story."  In  the  chapter  of 
this  book  on  "Approaching  the  Modern  Editor" 
much  that  was  said  would  apply  to  the  subject  of 
marketing  such  articles.  In  many  cases  the 
magazine  sections  of  the  newspapers  in  the 
smaller  cities  are  made  up  largely  of  syndicated 
[234] 


LITEKARY  CHORES 

material  which  has  been  placed  in  New  York,  is 
subscribed  for  by  papers  in  a  number  of  cities 
and  pubhshed  by  them  simultaneously.  And  so 
these  papers  buy  a  very  limited  amount  of  fea- 
tures of  their  own.  The  type  of  thing  which  is 
most  likely  to  appeal  to  them  from  the  writer 
near  at  hand  is  something  which  they  cannot  get 
from  the  distant  syndicates,  that  is  articles  of 
local  color.  A  writer  who  can  discover  or  assem- 
ble interesting  and  little  known  historical  data 
concerning,  say,  the  site  of  a  prominent  building 
in  course  of  construction  very  probably  has  an 
acceptable  "story."  His  material,  by  the  way, 
may  come  out  of  the  past,  but  it  is  news  to  the 
community. 

A  prime  point  always  to  be  borne  in  mind  by 
one  who  proposes  to  write  featm-e  articles  is  that 
he  is  expected  to  deal  with  news.  Many  people 
seeking  this  form  of  work,  like  many  trying  to 
get  books  to  review,  simply  go  in  and  tell  an  edi- 
tor that  they  would  like  to  write  "something" 
for  him.  That  very,  very  seldom  gets  one  any- 
where. What  he  wants  to  hear  is  exactly  the 
points  of  the  article  that  you  have  in  mind  to 
write.  It  is  a  usual  thing  for  an  experienced 
feature  writer  to  sell  his  article  before  it  is  writ- 

[235] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

ten,  to  obtain  a  definite  order  for  it.  Though  a 
writer  whose  quahties  and  abilities  were  unknown 
to  the  editor  doubtless  could  obtain  no  more  than 
a  tentative  agreement.  That,  however,  is  (so  to 
say)  getting  one's  head  inside  the  tent. 

§  Writing  the  Feature  Story. 

How  does  the  productive  writer  of  feature  ar- 
ticles manage  to  keep  himself  continually  sup- 
plied with  timely  subjects?  Well,  for  one  thing, 
he  is  likely  to  keep  a  searching  eye  on  the  daily 
papers.  Many  little  news  items  contain  excellent 
hints  for  elaborated  articles.  Not  long  ago  there 
was  a  bit  of  discussion  in  the  New  York  papers 
as  to  whether  or  not  "block  parties"  were  im- 
moral. A  good  many  people,  doubtless,  had 
never  seen  a  block  part5^  A  very  picturesque 
article,  indeed,  could  have  been  written  pictur- 
ing the  scene  at  several  of  them.  An  excellent 
story  was  printed  in  the  magazine  section  of  a 
New  York  paper  recently  describing  the  sum- 
mertime lure  of  several  restaurants  just  off 
Longacre  Square  as  strikingly  changed  from 
their  wintertime  appeal.  And  there  are  season- 
able subjects  for  feature  articles  which  continue 
to  be  good  year  after  year.  For  instance,  no 
[236] 


LITERARY  CHORES 

wide-awake  newspaper  would  fail  to  hail  again 
with  another  story  the  coming  to  town  of  The 
Circus. 

The  feature  writer  must  work  quickly.  His 
job  is  not  to  polish,  but  to  get  it  done,  and  get  it 
in.  Dispatch  must  be  his  watchword.  An  in- 
creasing number  of  women  are  successfully  en- 
gaged in  the  work.  With  energy,  intelligence, 
courage  and  industry  a  comfortable,  modest 
living  may  be  made  in  this  field.  Perhaps  to  the 
qualities  mentioned  should  be  added  salesman- 
ship— ^the  ability  to  talk  convincingly  to  an  edi- 
tor about  the  articles  one  wants  to  do. 

§  Copy  Writing  and  the  Advertising  Business. 

The  author  of  several  pretty  popular  books, 
who  had  formerly  edited  with  very  fair  success 
a  widely  known  magazine  of  literary  tendency, 
found  himself  not  long  ago  without  remunerative 
employment.  H.  L.  Mencken  asked  him  why  he 
did  not  look  into  advertising.  Julian  Street,  a 
number  of  years  ago,  before  he  was  at  all  known 
as  a  magazine  writer  and  an  author  of  books, 
was  an  advertising  man;  in  fact,  was  a  partner 
in  founding  the  prominent  firm  of  Street  and 
Finney,  and  himself  wrote  a  quantity  of  very 

[237] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

clever  advertising  copy.  His  copy  was,  perhaps, 
in  advance  of  the  advertising  ideas  in  general  of 
that  day.  Lately  advertising  copy  has  very 
widely  taken  on  a  decidedly  "literary"  flavor; 
so  much  so,  indeed,  as  sometimes  to  be  rather 
funny. 

At  any  rate,  advertising  has  come  to  engage 
much  more  than  formerly  real  artistic  talent. 
Charles  Hanson  Towne  recently  dipped  into 
advertising  for  a  bit.  Gerald  Stanley  Lee  has 
executed  a  number  of  advertising  commissions. 
A  light  essayist  probably  known  to  the  readers 
of  these  pages  recently  wrote  a  booklet  for  a 
firm  of  funeral  directors.  And  so  on.  Also, 
illustrations  used  in  advertisements  now  not  in- 
frequently are  admirable  art,  and  the  work  of 
highly  distinguished  men.  To  mention  just  one 
instance,  the  drawings  of  Wallace  Morgan  (who 
is  something  close  to  a  great  artist )  for  a  clothing 
establishment  have  stimulated  a  host  of  other  ad- 
vertisers to  the  ambition  of  obtaining  something 
like  them. 

Among  advertising  copy  writers,  specialists 

famous  in  their  field  make  handsome  incomes. 

One  of  the  best  known  and  highest  paid  of  these 

men  remarked  the  other  day  that  he  counted  it  a 

[238] 


LITERARY  CHORES 

mission  of  his  to  impress  upon  business  men  "the 
money  value  of  the  written  word."  Which  im- 
plies that  the  fees  asked  for  his  services  are  cal- 
culated to  command  respect  among  men  who  are 
in  the  habit  of  measuring  the  worth  of  all  things 
in  terms  of  money.  The  foregoing  statements 
are  by  no  means  intended  to  suggest  that  it  is 
easy  for  anyone  to  get  rich  quickly  by  writing 
advertising  copy.  Until  one  has  become  a  recog- 
nized leader  in  the  field  of  advertising  commis- 
sions are  very  difficult  to  obtain  on  one's  own. 
Nearly  all  advertising  is  arranged  for  by  the 
advertisers  through  advertising  agencies.  And 
the  only  course  usually  open  for  the  beginner  is 
for  him  to  gain  a  small  position  as  copy  writer 
with  an  advertising  agency. 

§  Work  of  the  Publicity  Man. 

Almost  everything  now  has  a  publicity  man. 
Some  are  highly  paid.  The  least  remunerative 
publicity  work  probably  is  that  done  for  publish- 
ing houses,  though  to  some  temperaments  doubt- 
less it  is  the  most  interesting.  A  large  amount  of 
pubhcity  work  that  is  done,  and  paid  for,  is 
worthless ;  it  does  not  get  across ;  editors  throw  it 
away  instead  of  using  it.    And  the  reason  is  that 

[239] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

the  writer  misconceives  the  nature  of  successful 
publicity.  Simply  to  eulogize  a  thing  does  not 
make  publicity  for  it.  The  skillful  publicity 
story  is  a  story  of  human  interest  which  does  not 
conspicuously  contain  any  element  of  advertis- 
ing, but  which  has  somewhere  woven  into  it  (so 
that  it  would  be  difficult  to  eliminate  it)  some 
reference  to  the  subject  to  which  the  writer  wants 
to  call  attention.  A  model  publicity  story  was 
an  article  which  the  press  agent  of  an  actress 
wrote  for  a  woman's  magazine  in  which  he  dis- 
cussed a  novel  way  of  caring  for  the  hair  and 
mentioned  (well  in  the  body  of  the  story)  that 
this  was  the  method  which  kept  so  beautiful  the 
hair  of  this  actress. 

§  Trade  Journals  and  House  Organs. 

The  enormous  number  of  trade  journals  and 
house  organs  in  the  United  States  present  a  field 
for  making  a  living  at  writing  and  editing  largely 
overlooked.  Sometimes  positions  on  these  pub- 
lications require  technical  knowledge ;  oftentimes 
they  do  not.  A  young  man  one  time  applied  for 
a  job  as  reporter  for  a  musical  journal.  He  told 
the  man  who  received  him  that  he  was  industri- 
ous, sober,  honest  and  conscientious  in  his  work. 
[240] 


LITERARY  CHORES 

The  man  in  charge  did  not  seem  to  pay  much 
attention  to  any  of  this.  At  length  the  young 
man  diffidently  confessed  that  the  trouble  was 
that  he  didn't  know  anything  about  music. 
"Good!"  exclaimed  the  boss;  "that's  what  we 
want,  a  reporter;  not  someone  who's  going  to 
turn  in  an  esthetic  of  music."  Trade  journals 
with  positions  open  frequently  advertise  in  the 
want  columns  of  the  newspapers. 

Writing  the  "autobiography"  of  a  personage 
celebrated  in  a  field  other  than  literature  is  a 
literary  chore  which  now  and  then  turns  up  for 
some  writer  of  businesslike  conscience  but  rather 
down  on  his  luck.  Translating  for  publishing 
houses,  reading  manuscripts  for  them,  and  editing 
with  more  or  less  rewriting  slovenly  written  vol- 
umes that  have  been  accepted  are  little  things 
that  help  along  when  one  needs  them,  and  can 
get  them  to  do. 

§  Using  the  Publishing  House  as  a 
Stepping  Stone  to  Success. 

The  idea  of  obtaining  a  position  in  a  publish- 
ing house  is  strong  in  the  minds  of  many  who 
aspire  to  write.  There  are  various  ways  of  look- 
ing at  that.     Persons  certainly  have  gone  from 

[24.1] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

publishing  houses  to  success  in  creative  Htera- 
ture.  On  the  other  hand,  there  are  several  men 
in  good  positions  in  pubhshing  houses  in  New 
York  who  declare  that  the  atmosphere  of  their 
business  dulls  the  whole  thing  for  the  spirit  with 
a  passion  for  writing,  and  who  advise  all  persons 
who  want  to  write  book  jacket  and  catalog 
copy  as  a  step  toward  becoming  authors  to  seek 
a  livelihood  anywhere  but  in  a  publisher's  office. 
Similarly,  a  daily  newspaper  grind  wears  down 
some  and  happily  brings  out  others. 

"Art,"  declared  Wliistler,  "happens — no  hovel 
is  safe  from  it,  no  Prince  may  depend  upon  it, 
the  vastest  intelligence  cannot  bring  it  about,  and 
puny  efforts  to  make  it  universal  end  in  quaint 
comedy,  and  coarse  farce." 


[242] 


XII 

LIMITATIONS   OF   THE   SYNDICATE   FIELD 

IT  has  been  shown  in  previous  chapters  of  this 
book  that  an  author  owns  a  number  of 
"rights"  to  his  work,  which,  if  protected,  may  be 
sold  to  several  different  concerns  for  one  purpose 
and  another.  We  have  seen,  for  example,  that 
the  first  serial  rights  to  a  story  may  be  sold  to  a 
magazine  publisher,  the  book  rights  to  a  book 
publisher,  the  picture  rights  to  a  photoplay  con- 
cern, and  the  dramatic  rights  to  a  play  producer. 
An  attempt  has  been  made  to  give  the  writer  a 
fair  idea  of  the  values  of  these  rights  and  of  how 
the  rights  may  be  disposed  of  to  the  best  advan- 
tage of  the  author.  Not  so  very  long  ago  pub- 
lishers rarely  accepted  an  author's  work  unless 
they  obtained  control  of  all  the  rights  to  the 
work.  It  was  customary  then  for  the  publishers 
to  profit,  at  the  author's  expense,  by  the  subse- 
quent sales  of  the  various  available  rights  to  the 
work.    There  were  cases  where  a  publisher  sold 

[243] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

the  picture  rights — and  other  rights — ^to  a  novel 
bought  according  to  this  scheme  of  things  and 
kept  the  entire  proceeds  from  the  sale.  How- 
ever, even  in  those  days,  there  were  publishers 
who  divided  the  receipts  from  such  sales  with 
their  authors  v/hether  or  not  they  were  legally 
bound  to  do  so. 

Besides  the  rights  already  discussed  there  are 
to  be  considered  the  second  and  third  serial 
rights,  sometimes  called  the  syndicate  rights  be- 
cause they  are  generally  sold  to  syndicates.  Syn- 
dicates are  organizations  that  supply  a  large 
number  of  newspapers  and  magazines  with  all 
kinds  of  material  for  publication.  Very  often 
this  material  is  sent  to  the  periodicals  for  simul- 
taneous publication.  Fontaine  Fox's  cartoons 
and  the  hke  are  furnished  by  syndicates. 

§  Work  of  Special  Syndicates. 

Some  syndicates  are  formed  for  the  purpose  of 
handling  a  single  feature  only.  Suppose  a  sen- 
sational book  dealing  with  a  widely  discussed  and 
timely  subject  to  be  written  by  an  internationally 
famous  authority  on  the  subject.  A  S3/ndicate 
might  then  be  organized  especially  to  dispose  of 
the  serial  rights  to  this  work  to  newspapers  and 
[244] 


THE  SYNDICATE  FIELD 

magazines.  The  book  would  then  be  divided  into 
"instalments"  in  advance  of  the  book's  publica- 
tion and  a  large  number  of  copies  of  each  instal- 
ment would  be  printed.  A  representative  of  the 
temporary  syndicate  would  then  probably  visit 
the  managing  editors  of  the  most  prominent 
newspapers  in  each  large  city  of  the  country  and 
offer  the  instalments  for  publication  in  these 
newspapers  on  certain  stated  dates  for  such  and 
such  a  price — the  price  varying  according  to  the 
size  of  the  newspaper's  circulation.  Shortly 
before  the  last  instalment  is  due  to  appear  in  the 
newspapers  the  book  itself  would  be  published. 
And  immediateljr  after  the  publication  of  the 
book  the  syndicate's  representative  would  prob- 
ably make  another  tour  of  the  country,  offering 
the  original  newspaper  instalments  to  the  editors 
of  country  and  small  town  papers  for  publica- 
tion. When  this  work  is  completed  the  syndicate 
would  dissolve  itself. 

These  temporaiy  syndicates  are  the  exception 
rather  than  the  rule.  The  greatest  number  of 
sales  of  second  and  third  serial  rights  to  stories, 
articles  and  features  are  negotiated  by  more  or 
less  permanent  syndicates  that  are  conducted  by 
newspapers,    such   as   the    Philadelphia    Public 

[245] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

Ledger  Syndicate,  by  publishers,  such  as  the 
Century  Syndicate,  and  by  individual  concerns, 
such  as  the  Wheeler  Syndicate  and  the 
McNaught  Syndicate. 

Syndicates,  it  will  be  found,  conduct  their 
business  with  less  noise  and  public  attention  than 
any  other  pubUshing  concern.  For  this  reason, 
it  seems,  the  majority  of  ^vi-iters  know  very  little 
about  the  methods  and  requirements  of  this  in- 
dustry. Authors  and  would-be  authors  appre- 
ciating the  financial  possibilities  of  the  syndicate 
field  are  constantly  asking,  "How  should  I  go 
about  having  a  short  story  syndicated?"  And 
"Can  you  tell  me  how  I  should  proceed  to  mar- 
ket syndicate  material  for  newspapers?" 

The  outstanding  difference  between  the  meth- 
ods of  syndicates  and  those  of  publishers, 
theatrical  managers,  and,  to  some  extent,  photo- 
play producers  is  that  the  latter  depend  upon 
contributions  and  unsolicited  manuscripts  where- 
as the  syndicate  is,  as  a  general  rule,  self-sup- 
porting. 

§  Methods  of  Syndicates. 

Practically  all  of  the  estabhshed  syndicates 
either  employ  a  highly  trained  staff  of  feature 
[2-i6] 


THE  SYNDICATE  FIELD 

writers  and  illustrators  who  are  familiar  ^dth  the 
peculiar  needs  of  the  syndicate  market,  or  else 
depend  entirely  upon  the  work  of  such  interna- 
tionally known  writers  and  illustrators  as  G.  K. 
Chesterton,  Stephen  Leacock,  Fontaine  Fox, 
Briggs,  etc.  These  syndicates  rarely,  if  ever, 
consider  unsolicited  manuscripts. 

With  a  few  exceptions  the  syndicate  depart- 
ment of  a  metropolitan  newspaper  or  publishing 
house  handles  only  the  second  serial  rights  to  the 
material  that  has  been  bought  for  the  use  of  that 
particular  newspaper  or  publishing  house.  In 
the  case  of  the  newspapers,  this  material  is  gen- 
erally prepared  by  their  own  editors,  reporters, 
feature  writers,  and  correspondents,  although 
unsolicited  manuscripts  are  sometimes  accepted. 
Most  of  these  manuscripts  are  bought  outright 
at  the  regular  newspaper  space  rates  and  theia 
resold  through  the  syndicate  department  of  the 
paper,  the  author  receiving  nothing  when  the 
material  is  resold. 

§  Managing  Your  Own  Syndicate. 

Some  writers  have  syndicated  their  own  stuff. 
This  is  usually  done  by  making  a  special  ar- 
rangement with  a  local  newspaper  whereby  the 

[247] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

paper  is  given  permission  to  publish  the  articles 
in  return  for  seventy-five  or  more  advance  galley- 
proofs  of  the  articles.  These  galley  proofs  are 
sent  by  the  writer  to  the  feature  editors  of 
seventy-five  or  more  newspapers  scattered 
throughout  the  country,  with  a  letter  stating  that 
they  may  use  the  articles  on  certain  specified 
dates  for  four  or  five  dollars,  or  whatever  amount 
the  author  desires  to  charge — newspapers  having 
large  circulations  being  charged  more  than  the 
papers  with  small  circulations.  Writers  who 
have  tried  this  have  said  that  the  results  of  their 
efforts  have  not  been  altogether  satisfactory^  as 
the  small  amount  received  from  the  newspapers 
scarcely  repays  them  for  the  cost  of  sending  out 
the  proofs  with  letters,  the  difficulty  of  collecting 
from  the  papers  that  agree  to  use  the  material, 
and  the  time  spent  on  preparing  the  articles  and 
conducting  the  necessary  correspondence. 

Like  photoplays  syndicated  stories,  features, 
and  so  on,  have  an  exceedingly  large  audience. 
The  writer  of  syndicate  material,  like  the  photo- 
playwright,  has  to  solve  the  problem  of  produc- 
ing material  that  will  interest  and  entertain 
everybody  in  this  mixed  crowd,  which  often  num- 
bers more  than  several  million  people  of  all  ages 
[248] 


THE  SYNDICATE  FIELD 

and  of  all  degrees  of  intelligence.  The  ideal 
syndicate  feature,  editors  will  tell  you,  should  be 
original,  entertaining,  novel,  easily  understood, 
and  of  universal  interest.  Most  editors  insist 
that  the  feature  should  consist  of  a  series  of  six 
or  a  dozen — sometimes  more — brief  articles. 
Single  articles  are  rarely  accepted  by  syndicates. 

§  Marketing  Syndicate  Material. 

The  usual  procedure  for  marketing  syndicate 
material  is  first  to  prepare  four  or  five  articles 
of  a  pi*oposed  series,  and  then  send  them  around 
with  an  explanation  of  the  basic  idea  and  scope 
of  the  series.  The  first  thing  that  will  be  con- 
sidered by  the  syndicate  editor  is  the  originality 
of  the  idea.  If  in  the  letter  of  explanation  the 
writer  states,  as  so  many  do  state,  that  his  pro- 
posed series  is  "after  the  same  idea  as  the  Walt 
Mason  (or  the  Frank  Crane,  or  the  F.  P.  A., 
or  the  anyone  else)  syndicated  matter  and  other 
similar  items"  his  idea  will  probably  be  rejected 
without  further  consideration.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  he  shows  that  his  work  is  quite  different 
from  the  features  turned  out  by  Walt  Mason 
and  all  the  others  the  syndicate  editor  will  un- 
doubtedly give  his  sample  manuscripts  careful 

[249] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

attention  to  determine  whether  or  not  what  the 
writer  says  about  them  is  true.  The  editor  will 
then  consider  the  interest  of  the  subject  and  the 
manner  in  which  it  has  been  presented.  Finally, 
he  will  decide  whether  or  not  it  is  the  sort  of 
thing  he  can  use  profitably.  If  he  decides  to 
accept  it  he  may  offer  a  definite  sum  for  all  serial 
rights  to  the  entire  series,  or  he  may  agree  to 
pay  a  certain  percentage  of  the  total  receipts 
from  that  particular  series,  according  to  the 
merits  of  the  material  and  the  reputation  of  the 
writer. 


[250] 


XIII 

THE    NEW    BOOKSHOPS 

/^NE  bright  Saturday  something  like  ten 
^^-^  years  ago,  in  the  days  when  I  was  a  clerk 
in  a  book  store,  I  remember  that  I  happened  to 
ask  a  fellow  clerk  how  he  was  going  to  spend 
Sunday,  His  reply  was:  "Dreading  Monday." 
I  do  not  cite  this  joyless  young  man's  attitude 
toward  his  occupation  as  representative  of  the 
spirit  of  all  booksellers  of  that  time.  But  I  do 
recall  that  in  the  relation  of  his  heart  toward  his 
work  he  was  far  from  being  unique  among 
people  in  the  business  of  selling  books  in  those 
days.  Indeed,  I  suppose  it  is  possible  that  now 
there  are  people  around  here  and  there  selhng 
books  who  much  prefer  Sundays  and  holidays  to 
any  other  days.  But  it  is  nothing  short  of  a 
remarkable  phenomenon,  the  number  of  people 
quite  recently  got  into  the  book  business  in  the 
United  States  who  strike  you  very  much  as  being 
reluctant  to  drop  bookselling  for  any  length  of 
time  for  anything  else  at  all. 

[251] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

The  other  day  I  ran  into  a  man  who  a  short 
time  ago  had  opened  a  bookshop  in  Buffalo.  Ke 
was  searching  for  any  new  books  of  verse  that 
he  might  not  have  known  about.  He  explained 
that  it  was  the  custom  in  his  shop  for  the  staff 
to  gather  a  little  before  the  hour  of  opening  and 
have  a  poetry  reading.  I  had  to  laugh.  That 
certainly  would  have  been  regarded  as  a  funny 
layout  in  my  day  as  a  bookseller,  and  the  staff 
doubtless  would  have  demanded  time  and  a  half 
for  overtime. 

I  knew  many  able  and  thoroughly  industrious 
booksellers  in  my  day.  But  I  never  could  under- 
stand why  the  major  number  of  them  had  ever 
gone  into  the  book  business.  They  would  have 
been  just  as  able  and  industrious  in  some  other 
business.  Some  of  them,  I  felt  sure,  would  have 
made  excellent  waiters.  Others  inclined  me  to 
believe  that  they  could  have  filled  capably  and 
gracefully  very  decent  positions  in  a  bank.  And 
surely  the  worldly  rewards  of  waiters  and 
bankers  were  greater  than  those  of  booksellers! 

§  The  Old  Order  of  Booksellers. 

I  could  not  perceive  in  many  of  the  book- 
sellers of  that  time  any  particular  instinct  for 

[252] 


THE  NEW  BOOKSHOPS 

reading.  They  read  a  little,  yes,  those  confreres 
of  mine  (some  of  them)  ;  but  not  much  more,  I 
should  say,  than  other  people  generally.  And 
mostly  what  they  read  was  nothing  distinguished. 
They  saw,  it  was  fairly  plain,  no  especial  con- 
nection between  the  business  of  selling  books  and 
the  enjoyment  of  reading  them.  And  in  the 
cases  of  most  of  them,  I  clearly  felt,  it  did  not 
particularly  concern  them  what  kind  of  book  it 
was  that  they  sold.  Though,  of  course,  it  was 
rather  gratifying  to  sell  a  somewhat  expensive 
one. 

Not  a  few  had  passed  their  lives  in  the  book 
business,  and  had  a  remarkable,  sometimes  an 
amazing,  working  knowledge  of  books.  If,  for 
instance,  you  asked  one  of  them  if  he  had  ever 
heard  of  such-and-such  a  book,  his  answer  would 
be  something  like  this:  "Harper  and  Brothers, 
1892,  twelve  mo.,  dollar  and  a  half."  They  had 
heads  like  the  "Cumulative  Index,"  those  vet- 
erans. They  lived  laborious  days  and  conceived 
of  sport  as  something  altogether  outside  of 
business.  I  liked  the  booksellers  of  this  old 
hardshell  type  and  esteemed  them ;  and,  if  I  may 
say  so,  they  seemed  (those  of  them  that  I  knew) 
not  to  dislike  me,  as  frequently  one  or  another 

[253]: 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

of  them  would  advise  me  to  get  out  of  the  book 
business.  He  felt,  I  gathered,  that  I  was  a  little 
over-literary  ever  to  get  on  there. 

Certain  romantic  figures  there  were,  too;  en- 
thusiasts, young  men  who  would  have  been 
miserable  (and  probably  very  ineffectual)  in  any 
atmosphere  not  of  books,  who  had  something  of 
the  joy  of  the  creative  artist  in  his  work  of 
furthering  the  fortunes  of  good  literature,  and 
who  suffered  very  real  discomfort  of  mind  when 
(which  was  more  than  a  little  of  the  time)  the 
exigencies  of  their  business  compelled  them  to 
traffic  in  books  which  to  them  were  worse  than 
valueless.  Booksellers  of  this  type,  however,  in 
my  day  were  regarded  by  the  trade  generally,  I 
fear,  as  being  rather  eccentric,  fanatical,  perhaps 
a  bit  defective  in  mind,  and  not  exactly 
"practical"  salesmen.  And  maybe  at  that  time 
they  weren't. 

Perhaps  my  sense  of  the  contrast  between 
then  and  now  has  inclined  me  to  lopside  some- 
what the  picture  of  bookselling  some  years  ago. 
I  call  to  mind  a  number  of  very  fine  figures  still 
going  strong  in  various  cities  who  were  with 
gladness  selling  books  years  before  I  knew  what 
"O.  P."  meant.  Still,  in  a  number  of  its  aspects, 
[254] 


THE  NEW  BOOKSHOPS 

there  has  certainly  been  a  metamorphosis  in  the 
book  business.  And  this  most  interesting  thing 
curiously  enough  has  not,  so  far  as  I  know,  before 
been  the  subject  of  any  general  survey. 

One  of  the  arguments  advanced  against  Pro- 
hibition, I  remember,  was  that  it  would  shoot  a 
city  full  of  empty  corners.  I  know  of  onlj'  one 
bookshop  that  actually  was  formerly  a  saloon, 
or  occupies  space  which  used  to  be  part  of  a 
saloon.  That  is  the  shop  in  Greenwich  Village 
established  in  what  was  the  "back  room"  of  the 
place  where  one  time  John  Masefield  tended  bar. 
There  where  of  old  the  Demon  Rum  prevailed, 
now  presides  a  fiery-haired  young  man  who  has 
become  widely  known  as  the  "demon  bookseller." 

§  Increase  in  Number  of  Bookshops. 

A  short  time  ago  a  writer  in  the  Chicago 
"Evening  Pos+"  observed  that  in  a  book  entitled 
(if  he  remembered  aright)  "In  the  Days  of  the 
Comet,"  Mr.  Wells  caused  the  character  of  the 
earth's  people  to  be  changed  by  contact  with  a 
hitherto  unknown  gas  which  streamed  from  a 
comet  and  charged  the  earth's  atmosphere;  and 
he  remarked  that  something  of  the  sort  must  have 
hit  Chicago,  as  within  the  last  few  years  the 

[255] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

character  of  the  town  had  changed  in  one  very 
important  respect — the  public  was  supporting 
six  book  stores  there  today  for  every  one  that  it 
allowed  to  exist  a  little  while  ago.  That  highly 
commendable  gas  clearly  is  not  confined  to  the 
atmosphere  around  the  nose  of  Lake  Michigan. 
The  September,  1921,  number  of  "The  Publish- 
ers' Weekly"  printed  an  article  entitled  "A  No- 
table Increase  in  Book  Dealers,"  As  statistical 
evidence  of  what  had  happened  within  the  last 
year,  a  list  of  new  bookshops  was  appended  to  the 
article.  Twenty-nine  in  number  they  were.  The 
places:  New  York;  Chicago;  Philadelphia; 
Washington,  D.  C. ;  Buffalo ;  Cincinnati ;  Shelby, 
North  Carolina;  San  Diego;  Bay  Shore,  New 
York;  New  Milford,  Connecticut;  St.  Louis; 
Miami,  Florida;  Atlantic  City;  Allentown, 
Pennsylvania;  New  Orleans;  Denver;  and 
Pater  son.  And  a  "book  caravan"  had  toured 
districts  remote  from  towns.  Several  travelling 
book  stores  have  set  up  since  then,  in  widely 
separated  parts  of  the  country. 

When  I  began  to  think  of  writing  this  article 

I  made  a  round  of  aU  the  newer  bookshops  in 

New  York  on  record  in  the  offices  of  two  leading 

publishing  houses.     A  few  weeks  later  I  was 

[256] 


THE  NEW  BOOKSHOPS 

passing  through  the  neighborhood  of  West 
Forty-seventh  Street  and  I  discovered  three  new- 
bookshops  that  I  had  never  seen  nor  heard  of 
before.  I  went  into  them  one  after  another  and 
learned  that  each  one  of  them  had  practically 
just  opened. 

§  The  New  Order  of  Booksellers. 

In  one  of  these  shops  I  found  the  proprietor 
to  be  a  gentleman  who  until  quite  recently  had 
been  an  instructor  in  English  at  Harvard,  and 
whose  duties  there,  it  appeared,  had  included 
collecting  books  for  the  university  library.  While 
he  was  specializing  in  his  shop  in  eighteenth  cen- 
tury literature,  his  stock  also  included  "the  best" 
books  of  the  day.  It  was  his  idea  that  a  book- 
seller had  "a  function  to  perform."  He  was 
called,  as  you  might  say,  to  aid  books  that 
"hadn't  had  a  square  deal."  An  idealist  and  an 
amateur,  this?  One  of  the  other  of  these  shops 
was  a  charming  place  run  by  a  club  of  New  York 
young  women  for  the  semi-centennial  fund  of  an 
eastern  women's  college.  All  help  in  the  shop 
was  voluntary.  There  was  a  spirit  about  of 
gleefulness  and  success.  I  was  on  my  way  to 
visit  one  of  the  earliest  established  and  most  elab- 

[257] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

orately  equipped  of  the  newer  order  of  small 
bookshops.  The  business  was  begun  at  New 
Haven  six  years  ago  by  a  gentleman  who  was 
formerly  director  of  the  Yale  University  Press. 
In  the  extent  of  its  ambition  and  the  literary 
character  of  its  stock  this  shop  was  an  innova- 
tion in  a  college  town.  I  recently  read  an  article 
by  an  instructor  of  youth  on  the  subject  of 
"What  Do  Boys  Know?"  It  was  his  conclusion 
that  boys  of  today  have  a  remarkable  knowledge 
of  automobiles,  and  of  little  else.  It  was  inter- 
esting for  me  to  hear  that  I'd  "be  surprised"  to 
know  to  what  extent  college  boys  at  New  Haven 
had  begun  to  collect  first  editions,  and  how  they 
made  of  the  bookshop  there  something  of  a  club. 
The  handsome  New  York  quarters  of  this  busi- 
ness begun  at  New  Haven  were  opened  about  a 
year  and  a  half  ago,  and  more  recently  a  branch 
shop  has  been  established  at  Princeton.  One  of 
the  pet  subjects  of  the  shop  in  New  York  is 
Dr.  Johnson.  And  one  of  the  principles  of  the 
shop  is  to  "push  people  relatively  unknown." 
Edwin  Arlington  Kobinson,  for  instance,  is  a 
hobby  there. 

About  ten  years  ago  there  were  three  kinds  of 
book  stores  in  this  country.     The  large,  hand- 
[258] 


THE  NEW  BOOKSHOPS 

somely  appointed,  exhaustively  stocked  book- 
stores in  the  centre  of  the  city.  And  in  this 
division  I  would  include  the  admirable  and  elabo- 
rate book  departments  of  big  department  stores. 
Then  there  were  the  dealers  handling  exclusively 
rare  books,  choice  items,  fine  bindings,  first  edi- 
tions, association  volumes,  and  such  things.  The 
Tiff  anys  of  the  book  trade,  they.  But  they  could 
cater  only  to  book  buyers  of  considerable  means. 
Then,  the  second-hand  book  stores.  Their 
windows  were  amusing:  paper  covered  joke 
books,  dream  books,  and  volumes  on  phrenology 
and  how  to  tell  fortunes  with  cards — ^these,  amid 
a  queer  medley  of  worn  tomes,  were  displayed 
there.  Yes ;  there  were,  of  course,  too,  some  few 
bookshops  confined  to  their  special  subjects: 
architectui'e,  books  in  the  French  language,  books 
of  Jewish  interest,  and  so  on.  The  book  stores 
of  all  these  various  kinds  continue  to  go  on  very 
much  as  before.  Except  that  (and  wondrous 
thing!)  you  are  likely  to  see  a  soiled  copy  of 
"The  Bookman"  or  "The  London  Mercury" 
where  you  used  to  see  a  dream  book.  But  the 
bright  little  specialtj^  bookshop  which  now  has 
come  into  so  great  a  vogue  hardly  existed. 
A  chatty  newspaper  story  has  appeared  now 

[259] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

and  then  about  one  or  another  of  the  picturesque 
little  shops  recently  opened  up.  And  some  of 
the  ideas  and  practical  problems  of  the  "small 
book  store"  have  been  discussed  a  bit  in  the  book- 
sellers' trade  journals.  But  one  or  another  of 
these  shops  cannot  now  be  viewed  as  an  isolated 
matter.  In  their  multitude  and  in  the  unity  of 
their  purpose  they  have  assumed  the  proportions 
of  a  movement,  comparable  in  significance,  one 
might  perhaps  say,  to  the  Little  Theatre  move- 
ment.* 

§  The  First  Little  Bookshop. 

The  first,  as  well  as  I  can  discover,  of  these 
Httle  shops  to  be  dependent  upon  books  alone, 
was  one  across  the  street  from  the  Little  Church 
Around  the  Corner.  It  opened  in  1909.  In  its 
ideals  it  was  identical  with  the  great  number  of 
shops  of  its  kind  today.  In  1916  it  failed.  But 
a  couple  of  years  ago  it  arose  again,  farther 
uptown,  and  now  it  is  flourishing  like  the  green 
bay  tree.  Or,  at  least,  the  j^oung  man  who  had 
the  earlier  shop  and  who  manages  the  new  one, 

*  Note — Since  the  preparation  of  this  chapter  an  excellent  article 
on  "Bookselling  as  a  Profession  for  Women,"  by  Madg«  Jenison, 
appeared  in  the  "Woman's  Home  Companion"  and  later  as  a 
monograph  published  by  The  Woman's  National  Book  Association. 

[2G0] 


THE  NEW  BOOKSHOPS 

is  the  same.  The  second  venture  of  this  descrip- 
tion, according  to  my  information,  was  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Washington  Square,  opened  in 
1911.  Through  various  vicissitudes  it  has  con- 
tinued on  to  present  prosperity. 

The  little  bookshop  early  took  a  hold  on  Green- 
wich Village,  when  the  great  buzz  of  bizarre 
business  activity  there  began.  As  in  the  in- 
numerable tea  rooms  that  sprouted  up,  the  book- 
shop scheme  of  decoration  was  sometimes  of 
delirious  post-futurist  design.  And  the  displays 
were  of  "The  Liberator,"  "The  Birth  Control 
Review,"  and  everything  going  on  psycho- 
this  and  psycho-that.  Also  a  magazine  for 
"end^emonists."  They?  Why,  neo-Epicureans, 
ultra-Hedonists,  and  beings  of  that  sort.  But 
the  Village  has  lately  changed  more  than  many 
people  know.  A  Greenwich  Village  little  book- 
shop today  has  very  much  the  same  stock  as  a 
little  bookshop  anywhere  else.  One  of  the 
bookshops  on  the  Village's  Main  Street  features 
children's  books.  And  if  you  want  to  get  any- 
thing but  a  first-rate  book  there  now  I  think 
you'll  have  to  go  outside  of  Greenwich  Village 
to  find  it — or  at  least  to  get  it  openly.  In  one 
of  the  most  successful  shops  there  it  suddenly 

[261] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

occurred  to  me  not  long  ago  that  there  was  noth- 
ing but  the  most  first-rate  sort  of  books  in  sight. 
From  curiosity  I  asked  the  bookseller  if  he  had 
a  copy  of  a  book,  an  innocent  enough  volume, 
but  of  rather  namby-pamby  character — quite  the 
kind  of  thing  which  not  long  ago  was  stigmatized 
by  the  epithet  "best  seller."  The  bookseller  pre- 
sented somewhat  the  effect  of  first  glancing 
cautiously  up  and  down  the  street.  Then  he  pro- 
duced the  book  from  beneath  a  counter  and 
handed  it  to  me  with  a  manner  which  seemed  to 
say:  "Slip  it  under  your  coat  quick."  I  might 
(such  appeared  to  be  the  atmosphere  of  the 
transaction)  have  been  buying  some  hootch. 

§  Bookselling  a  Happy  Vocation  for  Women. 

A  good  many  of  our  modern  little  bookshops 
are  run  by  women.  I  have  been  told  that  con- 
siderable impetus  was  given  to  the  movement  of 
women  into  the  book  business  by  Earl  Barnes, 
who  in  an  article  about  four  years  ago  advocated 
bookselling  as  the  ideal  profession  for  women. 
The  first  independent  women's  bookshop  was 
established  in  New  York  in  1916.  At  the  outset 
the  venture  yielded  only  fifteen  dollars  a  week 
for  the  two  organizers.  Help  was  given  by 
[262] 


THE  NEW  BOOKSHOPS 

volunteers.  This  shop  has  expanded  far  beyond 
all  initial  expectation,  and  has  recently  moved 
into  decidedly  commodious  quarters  in  the  Yale 
Club  building.  Nine  young  women  now  assist  in 
the  service  and  several  of  these  continue  to  be 
content  to  work  without  salary.  The  shop  has 
affiliations  with  seven  or  eight  other  shops 
throughout  the  country,  one  in  New  Orleans, 
another  in  Minneapolis.  It  provides  these  shops 
distant  from  book  centres  with  late  importations 
on  consignment.  It  cultivates  the  idea  of  public 
work  equally  with  the  literary  side  of  the  busi- 
ness. Served  various  war  boards  with  govern- 
ment pamphlets  and  other  material  during  the 
war.  Seeks  to  induce  various  publications  to 
work  on  a  plan  to  treat  books  as  public  necessity. 
It  likes  the  chances  to  be  of  service  to  students 
in  special  subjects,  undertakes  to  arrange 
lectures,  and  exhibitions  of  prints,  textiles,  bind- 
ings, bookplates,  and  specimens  of  modern 
printing,  for  clubs  and  churches.  It  now  and 
then  arranges  for  the  decoration  of  a  tea  room. 
And  is  active  in  three  other  functions  of  the  mod- 
ern little  bookshop. 

Now  the  National  Association  of  Book  Pub- 
lishers, I  understand,  has  a  very  sympathetic  eye 

[263] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

upon  the  Small  Bookshop,  which  should  offer 
so  happy  a  field  of  activity  to  the  young  woman 
returned  home  from  college.  Believing  that  the 
college  girl,  after  she  leaves  college,  desires 
decidedly  to  keep  her  independence  and  particu- 
larly to  enter  some  industrial  line  in  which  she 
can  utilize  her  education,  the  Association  is  going 
to  the  Deans  of  all  colleges  and  through  their  col- 
lege papers  to  the  college  girls  themselves  with 
the  story  of  what  young  women  are  now  doing  in 
bookselling.  Later  the  plan  is  to  arrange  for 
lecturers  to  go  to  the  bigger  colleges  in  both  the 
east  and  the  west  to  talk  to  the  girls  directly; 
and  to  all  those  who  are  seriously  interested  the 
National  Association  will  furnish  full  informa- 
tion and  in  every  way  possible  seek  to  make  their 
beginning  point  in  the  right  direction. 

§  Social  Activities  in  Little  Bookshops. 

Though  our  little  bookshop  is  new  with  us,  it 
is  not  new  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic. 
Some  time  before  the  war  I  remember  climbing 
the  murky  stairs  of  the  tiny  Poetry  Bookshop 
somewhere  behind  Museum  Street  in  London  to 
listen  to  an  afternoon  poetry  reading.  Readings, 
talks  by  authors,  and  literary  entertainments 
[264] 


THE  NEW  BOOKSHOPS 

have  recently  become  a  regular  part  of  the  book 
business,  and  particularly  of  the  little  bookshop 
business,  from  New  York  to  San  Francisco. 
And  very  stimulating  to  the  business,  I  under- 
stand, these  things  have  been  found  to  be.  Now 
and  then  a  little  bookshop  pubhshes  a  volume  or 
two  in  a  pleasantly  uncommercial  way.  And 
various  little  bookshops  have  come  to  be  head- 
quarters for,  or  at  least  regular  ports  of  call  of, 
divers  authors.  One  knows  where  it  is  likely  that 
he  may  find  WilHam  McFee  when  he  comes  off 
the  sea,  and  where  Alfred  Kreymborg  when  he 
is  in  New  York.  The  social  life  of  the  neighbor- 
hood sort  of  bookshop  is,  indeed,  becoming  a 
good  deal  of  a  thing.  I  heard  the  other  day  of 
a  little  bookshop  which  is  contemplating  serving 
tea  and  coffee  in  the  afternoon.  Open  in  the 
evenings,  some  of  them,  they  gather  in  their 
habitues  in  as  friendly  a  way  as  small  town  cigar 
stores. 

When  j'^ou  go  about  and  look  into  the  matter 
you  discover  that  the  great  majority  of  little 
bookshops  have  set  up  within  the  last  two  or 
three  years.  It  is  interesting  to  learn  what  the 
people  who  run  them  did  before.  In  Buffalo  a 
wealthy  man  in  the  oil  business  recently  retired 

[265] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

after  twenty-five  years  to  open  a  little  bookshop, 
where  he  has  an  *'old  cronies'  room,"  cultivates 
browsing  and  contact  with  customers.  A  young 
woman  who  has  the  most  glorious  bob  in  Green- 
wich Village,  and  became  the  proprietor  of  a 
little  bookshop,  formerly  taught  "esthetic  physi- 
cal culture,"  and  later  wandered  about  the  Vil- 
lage selling  her  own  cigarettes.  When  I  set  out 
to  look  into  little  bookshops  I  went  into  two,  one 
after  another,  and  found  in  each  a  young  woman 
who  but  a  short  time  before  had  been  a  writer  on 
the  staff  of  the  New  York  "Evening  Post."  One 
of  these  shops  I  was  told  was  owned  by  a  group 
of  "younger  married  women  of  New  York"  of 
money  and  position.  I  know  a  young  woman 
in  Chicago,  a  very  active  literary  critic  for  a 
great  newspaper  there,  who  also  runs  a  little 
bookshop.  And  one  of  the  most  interesting  small 
bookshops  in  New  York  is  run  by  a  man  who  has 
done  a  picturesque  varity  of  things :  run  a  farm, 
worked  for  missionary  societies,  written  books 
for  other  people. 

§  Functions  of  the  Specialty  Bookshops. 

The  little  bookshop  is,  of  necessity  for  one 
thing,  a  specialty  shop.     The  specialty  some- 
[266] 


THE  NEW  BOOKSHOPS 

times  is  the  result  merely  of  a  very  distinctive 
taste  in  literature.  The  other  day  in  a  shop  much 
inclined  to  contemporaiy  English  novelists, 
poets,  and  essayists,  I  was  told  by  the  young 
woman  there  that  the  stock  was  limited  to  her 
husband's  prejudices.  His  prejudices  have 
brought  him  a  substantial  following.  A  unique 
enterprise  even  for  New  York  City  is  the  drama 
bookshop,  devoted  exclusively  to  the  sale  of  plays 
and  books  on  the  theatre  and  the  drama,  and 
an  institution  which  engages  largely  in  the  giving 
of  all  sorts  of  information  pertaining  to  its  sub- 
ject. A  peculiarly  engaging  featm'e  of  the  shop 
is  the  shelf  of  children's  plays.  A  recent  addition 
to  highly  specialized  bookshops  in  New  York  is 
one  devoted  entirely  to  orientalia,  where  some 
of  the  greatest  scholars  in  the  world  call  in, 
sometimes  to  meet  each  other  for  the  first  time, 
and  add  to  the  membership  of  what  the  proprie- 
tor calls  their  "little  club."  This,  he  rejoices  to 
think,  "lifts  the  place  above  a  commercial  atmos- 
phere altogether." 

§  BooJcsJiops  for  Children. 

A  juvenile  bookshop  is  not  a  twentieth  century 
project.     "Juvenile  Library"  appeared  on  the 

[267] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

sign  of  a  London  bookseller  whose  business 
career  began  in  1740.  By  1800  there  were  at 
least  three  other  "juvenile  libraries"  in  London. 
Charles  and  Mary  Lamb  wrote  their  "Tales  from 
Shakespeare"  and  "Poetry  for  Children"  for  a 
"Juvenile  and  School  Library"  kept  by  the  wife 
of  William  Godwin,  best  known  as  the  father 
of  Mary  Shelley.  In  Philadelphia  there  were 
several  juvenile  book  stores  very  early  in  the 
nineteenth  century.  But  the  new  idea  in  chil- 
dren's bookshops  is  the  effort  to  reach  the 
children  directly.  The  first  of  the  modern 
children's  bookshops  was  opened  in  Boston  in 
1915.  The  stock  ranged  from  toy  books  to 
standard  editions  for  young  men  and  women. 
As  in  other  little  bookshops,  a  special  informa- 
tion service  was  extended.  Within  the  last 
couple  of  years  children's  bookshops,  with  their 
amusing  dwarf  chairs  and  tables  have  been 
opened  in  New  York,  Chicago,  and  Seattle. 
And  not  long  ago  the  publisher  of  a  well-known 
children's  magazine  opened  in  New  York  a 
"Book  House"  for  children,  where  you  may  get 
the  latest  toy  book  or  a  de  luxe  "Arabian 
Nights." 
[268] 


THE  NEW  BOOKSHOPS 

§  A  Master  of  His  Profession. 

People  who  run  specialty  bookshops  tell  you  a 
number  of  interesting  things.  The  owner  of  a 
little  bookshop,  for  one  thing,  usually  wants  his 
shop  to  stay  a  small  bookshop.  He  wins  his  cus- 
tomers' confidence;  they  put  themselves  into  his 
hands,  and  are  grateful  to  him.  He  does  not 
have  to  crawl ;  he  is  the  master  of  his  profession ; 
those  who  enter  "can  be  nasty  somewhere  else." 
There  is  very  little  risk  in  the  specialty  bookshop, 
it  seems,  of  losing  money;  absolutely  free  credit 
usually  is  given;  and  everybody  pays  up.  The 
little  bookshops  co-operate  with  one  another:  get- 
ting books  from  each  other;  sending  customers 
to  each  other.  And,  finally,  there  seems  to  be 
something  like  a  conspiracy  among  them  against, 
as  one  of  them  put  it,  "best  sellers  in  a  bad  sense." 
"But,"  I  asked,  "if  someone  wanted  a  copy  of  a 
sensational  best  seller  wouldn't  you  get  it  for 
him?" 

"Well,"  the  young  woman  replied,  "we  might 
get  it  for  him,  but  we'd  inquire  into  his  motives.'* 


[269] 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

A  LIST  OF  BOOKS  RELATING  TO  ADVERTISING 

ADVERTISING  AND  ITS  MENTAL   LAWS,  by   H.    F.  AdAMS    (Mac- 

millan,  1916). 

A  practical  work  presenting  in  simple  language  the  basic 
facts  and  principles  of  the  psychology  of  advertising  and 
showing  how  the  principles  may  be  applied.  With  illustra- 
tions and   an   Index. 

ADVERTISING  AS  A  VOCATION,  by  F.  J.  Allen  {Macmillan, 
1919). 

Prepared  as  a  guide  for  those  who  are  trying  to  find  a  voca- 
tion for  which  they  are  fitted. 

THE  ADVERTISING  MAN,  by   EARNEST   ElMO   CaLKINS    (ScHb- 

ners,  1922). 

A  clear  estimate  of  the  advertising  man's  requisite  and  oppor- 
tunities. 

making    ADVERTISEMENTS    AND    MAKING    THEM    PAY,    by    RoY 

S.  DuRSTiNE   (Scribners,  1920). 

An  informal  discourse  on  advertising  ideas,  copy,  typography, 

and  camppagn   management,  with   suggestions   for   improving 

the  quality  and   freshness   of  advertising  matter.     Profusely 

illustrated. 

WRITING  AN  ADVERTISEMENT,  RoLAND  S.  HaLL  (HoUgJltOTl). 
A  helpful  guide  to  success  in  the  production  of  advertising 
copy. 

A    SHORT    COURSE    IN    ADVERTISING,   AleX    F.    OsBORN    {ScHb- 

ners,  1921). 

A  clear-cut  analysis  and  explanation  of  the  elements  of 
modern  advertising  and  the  problems  that  confront  the  adver- 
tiser. 

*  *  * 

[271] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  Vv^RITING 


A  LIST  OF  BOOKS  RELATING  TO  PLAY  WHITING 

WRITING    AND    SELLING   A    PLAY,    bj    FaNNY    CaNNON    (Holt, 

1915). 

A  common-sense  and  practical  book  written  by  one  who 
knows  the  subject  from  the  inside  as  actress,  manageress, 
playwright,  and  "play-doctor."  Is  now  out  of  print  but  can 
still  be  obtained  from  most  public  libraries. 

THE    EXEMPLARY   THEATER,   by    HaRLEY   GrANVILLE-BaRKER 

(^Little,  Brown). 

Information  about  the  theater  that  is  of  special  interest  to 

those  interested  in  play  writing. 

contemporary  one-act  plays,  by  B.  Roland  Lewis  (Scrib- 
ners,  1922). 

Eighteen  one-act  plays,  with  an  outline  study  of  the  one-act 
play  and  bibliographies,  selected  and  prepared  to  meet  the 
needs  of  students  and  teachers. 

A   STUDY   OF  THE    DRAMA,  bj   BrANDER   MaTTHEWS    (Hough- 

ton). 

A  guide  for  the  work  of  the  dramatist. 

COMEDY,  by  John  Palmer  (Doran). 

One  of  the  volumes  in  The  Art  and  Craft  of  Letters  Series. 

THE      twentieth      CENTURY     THEATER,    by     W.    L.    PhELPS 

(Macmillan,  1918). 

A  discussion,  with  corroborative  figures  and  specific  illustra- 
tions, of  some  of  the  conditions  and  tendencies  of  the  English 
and  American  stage  of  1900-1918. 


A  LIST  OE  BOOKS  RELATING  TO  THE  PROFESSION  OF 
JOURNALISM 

the  country  weekly,  by  Phil  C.  Bing  (Appleton,  1917), 
Considers  the  duties  of  a  successful  country  editor. 

NEWSPAPER      WRITING      AND      EDITING,     by      W.     G.     BlEYER 

{Houghton,  1916). 

A  practical   handbook  on   the  subject. 

[272] 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

HOW  TO  WRITE  SPECIAL  FEATURE  ARTICLES,  by  W.  G.  BlEYER 

(Houghton,  1919). 

Of   special   interest    to   the   would-be    free   lance   newspaper 

writer  and  the  "cub"  reporter. 

WRITING    OF   TODAY,   by    J.    W.    CuNLIFFE    AND    GeRHARD    R. 

LoMER   {Century,  1918). 

Carefully    selected    models    of    modern    journalistic    prose, 

classified  for  ease  of  reference  under  general  headings. 

THE     GENTLE    ART    OF    COLUMNING,    by    ChARLES    L.    EdSON 

(Brentano's,  1920). 

With  Prefaces  by  Don  Marquis,  Christopher  Morley,  F.  P.  A., 

and  George  Horace  Lorimer. 

THE  EDITORIAL,  by  Leon  N.  Flint  (Appleton,  1920). 

A  discussion  of  how  the  editorial  may  best  perform  the 
functions  that  inevitably  belong  to  it. 

MAKING  A   NEWSPAPER,  by  JoHN   L.   GiVEN    (Holt,  191Jf). 
A  comprehensive  and  accurate  account  of  the  workings  of  a 
modem  newspaper,  including  chapters   on  Qualifications   for 
Journalism,  Preparing  for  Journalismi,  Getting  a  Job,  Writing 
a  Newspaper  Story,  etc. 

WRITING  FOR  PRINT,  by  H.  F.  HARRINGTON  {Heath,  1922). 

HANDBOOK     FOR     NEWSPAPER    WORKERS,    by    GrANT    MiLNOR 

Hyde  {Appleton,  1921). 

A  compact  manual  of  all  the  elements  that  go  to  make  up  a 

correct  newspaper  style. 

NEWSPAPER    REPORTING     AND     CORRESPONDENCE,     by     GrANT 

Milnor  Hyde   {Appleton). 

A  concise  explanation  of  the  fundamentals  of  newspaper  re- 
porting, with  an  account  of  the  things  that  concern  the 
reporter  during  the  first   few  months  of  his  work. 

NEWSPAPER  EDITING,  by  Grant  Milnor  Hyde  {Appleton). 
A  discussion  of  the  methods  of  the  copy  editor  and  the  im- 
portance of  his  work. 

THE   WRITING  OF   NEWS,  by  ChAS.   G.    RoSS    {Holt). 

Deals  wi\h  the  presentation  of  the  news  story — ^tiie  reporter's 
part  in  the  day's  work  of  a  modern  newspaper's  staff. 

[273] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

PRACTICAL  JOURNALISM,  by  E.  L.  Shuman  (Appleton). 

An  analysis  of  all  the  writing  departments  of  a  progressive 
city  daily. 

THE  NEWSPAPER  MAN,  by   Talcott  Williams    (Scribners, 
1922). 

Discusses  the  nature  of  the  profession  of  Journalism,  its 
place  in  the  life  of  the  community,  the  opportunities  it  offers, 
and  the  preparation  necessary   for  entering  the  profession. 


A  LIST  OF  BOOKS  RELATING  TO  THE  TECHNIQUE 
OF  THE  NOVEL 

THE  author's  craft,  by  Arnold  Bennett  (Doran,  191^). 

Four  essays  discussing  Seeing  Life,  Writing  Novels,  Writing 
Plays,  and  The  Artist  and  the  Public. 

development   of  the   ENGLISH   NOVEL,  by  W.   L.   Cross 
{Macmillan,  1899). 

THE  TECHNIQUE  OF  THE  NOVEL,  by  C.  F.   HoRNE    (HurperS, 

1908). 

A  study  of  the  elements  of  novel  writing  and  their  evolu- 
tion. 

STUDY    OF    PROSE    FICTION,    by    Bliss    Perry    (Houghtou, 

1902). 

A  study  of  the  art  of  the  novelist. 

EVOLUTION  OF  THE  ENGLISH  NOVEL,  by  F.  H.  StODDARD 

{Macmillan). 

THE    AMERICAN    NOVEL,  by    C.  Van    Doren    (Macmillan, 
1921). 

Critical  essays  on  the  history  and  development  of  tiie  Ameri- 
can novel. 


[274] 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 


A  LIST  OF  BOOKS  RELATING  TO  THE  ART  OF 
PHOTOPLAY    WRITING 

HOW   TO   WRITE    FOR  THE   MOVING   PICTURES,  by   MARGUERITE 

Bertsch   (Doran,  1917). 

A  manual  of  instruction  and  information  written  by  the 
director  and  editor  for  the  Vitagraph  Co.  and  the  Famous 
Players  Film   Co. 

HOW  MOTION  PICTURES  ARE  MADE,  by  HoMER  Croy  (Har- 
pers, 1918). 

MAKING  THE  MOVIES,  by  E.  A.  Deuch  {MacmUlan,  1915). 

HOW  TO  write  photoplays,  by  John  Emerson  and  Anita 
Loos  (McCann,  1920). 

WRITING     THE     PHOTOPLAY,     by     J.     BeRG     EsENWEIN      AND 

Arthur  Leeds   (Home  Correspondence  School). 
Text-book  used  by  the  Home  Correspondence  School. 

the   art   of   PHOTOPLAY  MAKING,  by   V.  O.  FrEEBURG 

(MacmUlan,  1918). 

Analyzes  the  photoplay,  shows  its  points  of  similarity  with 
the  spoken  drama,  discusses  the  psychology  of  the  cinema 
audience,  and  deals  with  the  delineation  of  character,  and 
the  construction  of  photoplay  plots. 

THE  ART  OF  THE  MOVING  PICTURES,  by  V.  LiNDSAY  (Mac- 
mUlan, 1922). 

New  and  Revised  Edition.  A  series  of  delightful,  instructive 
and  suggestive  papers  on  the  artistic  possibilities  of  the 
Moving  Picture. 

SCENARIO  WRITING  TODAY,  by  Grace  Lytton   (Houghtoti, 
1921). 
Instruction  in  the  mechanics  of  scenario  writing. 

cinema    CRAFTSMANSHIP,    by    FRANCES    TaYLOR    PatTERSON 

(Harcourt,  1920). 

A  discussion  of  the  art  and  science  of  motion  picture  pro- 
duction. 


[275] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

PHOTOPLAY    WRITING,     by     WiLLIAM     LoRD     WrIGHT     {Folk, 

1922). 

A  book  of  advice  on  all  phases  of  the,  business  of  writing 
for  the  moving  picture  producers,  briefly  and  clearly  pre- 
sented. 


A  LIST  OF  BOOKS  RELATING  TO  POETRY 

THE  EPIC,  by  Lascelles  Abercrombie  (Doran). 

One  of  the  volumes  in  The  Art  and  Craft  of  Letters  Series. 
The  most  conspicuous  instances  of  epic  poetry  discussed 
primarily  as  stages  of  one  continuous  artistic  development. 

WRITING  AND  READING  OF  VERSE,  by  C.  E.  ANDREWS   {Afple- 

ton). 

A  treatise  on  the  technique  of  various  verse  forms. 

VERSE  WRITING,  by  W.  H.  Carruth  (Macmillan). 

THE  LYRIC,  by  John  Drinkwater  (JDoran). 

One  of  the  volimies  in  The  Art  and  Craft  of  Letters  Series. 

THE  rhymster,  by  Tom  Hood  (Appleton). 

A  guide  to  versification,  containing  a  dictionary  of  rhymes. 

poetic    origins   and    the    ballad,    by   L.   Pound    {Mac- 

millan). 

THE  BALLAD,  by  Frank  Sidqwick  (Dorun). 

One  of  the  volumes  in  The  Art  and  Craft  of  Letters  Series. 


A  LIST  OF  BOOKS  RELATING  TO  SHORT  STORY 
WRITING 

THE  SHORT  STORY,  by  E.  M.  Albright  (Macmillan,  1907). 

A   clear    statement   of   the   principles    and   structure   of   tke 
short  story. 

[276] 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

THE   SHORT  STORY  IN   ENGLISH,   by   HeNRY   S.    CaNBY    (Holt, 

1909). 

A  more  or  less  critical  history  of  the  development  of  all  types 

of  the  short  story  in  every  English  period. 

A   STUDY   OF   THE   SHORT  STORY,   by   HeNRY   S.   CaNBY    {Holt, 

1913). 

A  critical  account  of  the  development  of  the  short  story 
intended  primarily  as  a  text-book  for  college  classes.  Sev- 
eral illustrative  short  stories  are  included. 

WRITING  THE  SHORT  STORY,  by  J.  Berg  Esenwein  {Home 
Correspondence  School). 

Text-book  used  in  the  short  story  course  of  the  Home  Corre- 
spondence School. 

THE  ART  OF  THE  SHORT  STORY,  by  CaRL  H.  GrABO  (Scrtb- 

ner,  1913). 

A  simple  and  orderly  explanation  of  the  principles  of  narra- 
tive structure,  with  an  analysis  of  the  way  in  which  the  mind 
seeks  and  selects  a  story  idea  and  then  proceeds  to  develop  it. 

REPRESENTATIVE   SHORT   STORIES,   edited  by   NiNA   HaRT  AND 

Edna  M.  Perry  (Macmillan). 

REPRESENTATIVE    AMERICAN    SHORT    STORIES,    by    ALEXANDER 

Jessup  {Allyn  ^  Bacon,  1922). 

This  book  is  said  to  contain  the  largest  collection  of  short 
stories  ever  published  in  one  volume.  It  reprints  seventy-four 
stories,  dating  from  1788  to  1921. 

THE    BOOK    OF    THE    SHORT    STORY,  edited  by  Alexander 
Jessup  and  Henry  S.  Canby  (Appleton). 
Eighteen  of  the  best  examples  of  the  short  story,  from  various 
countries,  from  Egyptian  times  to  the  present  century. 

THE  LURE  OP  THE  PEN,  by  Flora  Klickmann   {Putnam, 
1920). 

Written  with  the  belief  that  "no  one  can  teach  authors  how 
or  what  to  write;  but  sometimes  it  is  possible  to  help  the 
beginner  to  an  understanding  of  what  it  is  best  not  to  write." 

THE  AMERICAN  SHORT  STORY,  by  Elias  Lieberman  (Editor, 
1912). 

An  investigation  into  the  influence  which  our  numerous  locali- 
ties have  had  on  the  development  of  the  American  short 
story. 

[277] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

today's  short  stories  analyzed,  by  Robert  Wilson  Neal 
(Oxford,  1918). 

A  study  of  the  short  story  art  as  exemplified  in  contemporary 
American  magazine  fiction. 

SPECIMENS   OF   THE   SHORT    STORY,   edited   by   George    H. 

Nettleton  (Holt,  1901). 

Models  of  the  sketch,  the  tale,  the  allegory,  the  burlesque, 
the  adventure  story,  the  local  color  story,  and  the  psychologi- 
cal story. 

THE   ART   AND   THE   BUSINESS   OF   STORY  WRITING,  by  WaLTER 

B.  Pitkin  (Macmillan,  1918). 

HOW  TO  WRITE  STORIES,  by  Walter  B.  Pitkin  {Independ- 
ent Corp.,  1921). 

An  easily  understood  and  frankly  commercial  study  of  plot 
construction  and  development  and  the  psychology  of  the 
short  story,  written  after  the  manner  of  a  Brisbane  edi- 
torial.    Illustrated. 

SHORT    STORIES    OF    AMERICA,    edited    by    R.    L.    Ramsay 
{Houghton,  1921). 

With  an  Appendix  consisting  of  helpful  study  questions  and 
suggestions  on  the  science  of  short  story  writing. 

PLOTS  AND  PERSONALITIES,  by  EdWIN  E.  SlOSSON  AND  JuNE 

E.  Downey  {Century,  1922). 

A  psychological  study  of  plot-making  and  character-con- 
struction, clearly  written.  It  is  as  entertaining  as  it  is 
instructive. 

STORIES  EDITORS  BUY  AND  WHY,  Compiled  by  Jean  Wick 

{Small,  Maynard,  1921). 

A  collection  of  representative  short  stories  supplemented  by 
forty-nine  letters  from  American  magazine  editors  telling 
something  about  their  needs  and  their  methods  of  selecting 
manuscripts   for  publication. 

HOW    TO    STUDY    "tHE    BEST    SHORT    STORIES,"    by    BLANCHE 

Colton  Williams   {Small,  Maynard,  1919). 

An  analysis  of  Edward  J.  O'Brien's  annual  volumes  of  the 
best  short  stories  of  the  year,  prepared  for  the  use  of  writ- 
ers and  students  of  the  short  story. 

[278] 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

A  TilST  OF  BOOKS  RELATING  TO  THE  FORMATION  OF  A 
LITERARY  STYLE 

DESCRIPTIVE  WRITING,  by  E.  Albright  (Macmillan). 

THE  ORTHEOPisT,  by  Alfred  Ayres  (Appletou). 

A  manual  on  the  right  and  wrong  use  of  common  but 
troublesome  words. 

THE  ENGLISH  BIBLE  AS  A  GUIDE  TO  WRITING,  by  C.   S.   BALD- 
WIN  (Macmillan,  1905). 

An  interesting  little  book  on  the  development  of  a  simple, 
forcible  style,  using  the  English  Bible  as  a  model, 

TALKS    ON    WRITING    ENGLISH,   by   ArLO    BatES    (HoughtOTl). 

Suggestive  chapters  on  the  formation  of  an  effective  style. 

THE  writer's  ART,  Selected  and  arranged  by  Rollo  Wal- 
ter Brown  (Harvard,  1921). 

An  instructive  book  of  prose  readings  made  up  of  what 
writers  themselves  have  said  about  writing. 

writing  THROUGH  READING,  by  RoBERT  M.  Gay  (Atlantic, 
1921). 

Suggests  a  new  plan  for  an  adequate  and  proficient  command 
of  written  English. 

PUNCTUATION,  by  F.  Horace  Teall  (Appletan). 

Simplified  rules  for  correct  punctuation,  emphasized  and 
made  clear  by  illustration  and  discussion. 

THE     STUDY     OF     WORDS,     by     RiCHARD     ChEUEVIX     TrENCH 

(Doran). 

Twentieth  Edition.     A  comprehensive  and  standard  work. 

*  *  * 

A  LIST  OF  MISCELLANEOUS  BOOKS  OF  INTEREST  TO 
WRITERS 

THE      TRUTH      ABOUT     AN      AUTHOR,    by     ArNOLD      BeNNETT 

(Doran,  1911) 

A  frank  account  of  Mr.  Bennett's  literary  career,  containing 
many  bits  of  information  about  authors,  publishers,  editors, 
reviewers,  and  readers. 

LITERARY  TASTE,  by  Arnold  Bennett  (Dovau). 

[279] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

CRITICISM,  by  W.  C.  Brownell  (Scribners,  19H). 

An  interesting  discussion  of  the  field,  function,  equipment, 
and  method  of  the  critic. 

SATIRE,  by  Gilbert  Cannan  (Doran). 

One  of  the  %'olumes  in  The  Art  and  Craft  of  Letters  Series. 

THE     THEORY     AND     PRACTICE     OF     TECHNICAI,     WRITING,     by 

Samuel  Chandler  Erle  {Macmillan,  1920). 
A  study  of  the  theory  of  technical  exposition,  and  sugges- 
tions for  the  correct  application  of  the  principles  in  actual 
practice.  A  very  helpful  book  for  the  engineer  who  is  de- 
sirous of  obtaining  the  best  results  in  writing  reports  and 
articles. 

HISTORY,  by  R.  H.  Gretton   (JDoran). 

Shows  the  proper  function  of  History  as  a  study  of  the 
general  conditions  of  life  in  each  generation.  One  of  the 
volumes  in  The  Art  and  Craft  of  Letters  Series. 

TYPES  OF  THE  ESSAY,  Selected  and  edited  by  Benjamin  A. 

Heydrick   (Scribners,  1921). 

A   representative   collection   of  essays,  with   an   Introduction 

sketching  the  history  of  the  essay. 

MEN    AND    BOOKS   AND    CITIES,   by    RoBERT   CoRTES    HoLLIDAY 

(Doran,  1920). 

An  entertaining  collection  of  essays  dealing  with  authors  and 

books. 

CRITICISM,  by  P.  P.  Howe  (Doran). 

One  of  the  volumes  in  The  Art  and  Craft  of  Letters  Series. 

A   HISTORY  OF  THE   ART   OF   WRITING,  by  WiLLIAM  A.   MaSON 

{Macmillan,  1920). 

A  fascinating  book,  covering  the  history  of  writing  from  the 
days  of  primitive  picture  writing  to  the  present  age  of  print- 
ing. 

BOOKS  AND  THEIR  AUTHORS,  by  S.  P.  B.  Mais  (Dodd,  Meod, 
1920). 

An  illuminating  series  of  essays  dealing  with  popular  modera 
writers. 

PARODY,  by  Christopher  Stone  {Doran). 

One  of  the  volumes  in  the  Art  and  Craft  of  Letters  Series. 

[280] 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

THE     ART     OF     BIOGRAPHY,     by     WiLLIAM      ROSCOE      ThAYER 

(Scribners,  1920). 

A   delightfully  suggestive  study  of  the   development  of  bio- 
graphical writing. 

THE  ESSAY,  by  Orlo  Williams  (Doran). 

One  of  the  Tolumes  in  The  Art  and  Craft  of  Letters  Series. 


[2811 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

A  LIST  OF  MAGAZINES  AND  TRADE  PAPERS  OF  SPE- 
CIAL INTEREST  TO  STUDENTS,  AUTHORS,  PLAY- 
WRIGHTS,   PHOTOPLAYWRIGHTS,    ADVER- 
TISING MEN,  AND  JOURNALISTS 

THE  BOOKMAN— Published  monthly  by  George  H. 
Doran  Company,  224  Madison  Avenue,  New  York. 
John  Farrar,  editor. 

Contains  criticisms,  articles  on  various  phases  of  literary 
endeavor,  reviews  by  well-known  critics,  sketches  of  promi- 
nent authors,  the  fugitive  and  interesting  gossip  of  the  writ- 
ing world,  and  occasional  short  stories. 

THE  WRITER'S  MONTHLY— Published  monthly  by 
The  Home  Correspondence  School,  Springfield,  Mass. 
J.  Berg  Esenwein,  editor. 

Contains  helpful  articles  and  suggestions  for  student  writers. 
Publishes  a  monthly  department,  "Where  to  Sell,"  listing  the 
names  and  addresses  of  a  number  of  magazines  and  stating 
their  wants. 

THE  WRITER— Published  monthly  by  the  Writer  Pub- 
lishing Company,  P.  O.  box  1905,  Boston,  Mass. 

Contains  short  articles  of  interest  to  fiction  writers,  reviews 
of  books  about  authors,  authorship,  language,  or  literary 
topics,  and  a  monthly  address  list  of  magazines  with  brief 
statements  of  their  manuscript  requirements. 

THE  WRITER'S  DIGEST— Published  monthly  by  The 
Writer's  Digest,  Butler  Building,  Cincinnati,  Ohio. 
J.  P.  Garlougk,  editor. 

Contains  articles  about  writing  photoplays,  short  stories, 
plays,  poems,  popular  songs  and  the  like;  book  reviews,  and 
information  regarding  the  needs  of  various  publications  and 
publishing  houses. 

THE  EDITOR — Published  twice  a  month  by  William  R. 
Kane,  Book  Hill,  Highland  FaUs,  N.  Y.  William  R. 
Kane,  editor. 

Contains  articles  on  various  phases  of  the  writing  business,  a 
list  of  publications  and  their  needs,  an  account  of  the  ex- 
periences of  young  authors,  and  a  department  of  opinions 
and  quotations  from  old  and  new  books  and  periodicals. 

[282] 


LIST  OF  MAGAZINES 

THE  PHOTODRAMATIST— Published  monthly  by  the 
Photodramatist  Publishing  Co.,  Inc.,  411  South  Main 
Street,  Los  Angeles,  Cal. 

Contains  articles  about  photoplay  writing  and  the  photoplay 
market,  talks  by  H.  H.  Van  Loan,  and  a  special  department 
devoted  to  the  Screen  Writers'  Guild  of  the  Authors'  League 
of  America. 

EDITOR  AND  PUBLISHER— Published  weekly  by 
The  Editor  and  Publisher  Co.,  1117  World  Building, 
New  York,  N.  Y.  James  Wright  Brown,  editor. 
Contains  news  stories,  personal  items,  and  special  articles 
that  are  of  interest  to  professional  advertising  men,  journal- 
ists and  newspaper  men  generally. 

THE    FOURTH    ESTATE— Published    weekly    by    The 
Fourth  Estate  Publishing  Co.,  232  West  59th  Street, 
New  York,  N.  Y.     Ernest  F.  Birmingham,  editor. 
A  trade  paper  for  the  professional  newspaper  man. 

PRINTERS'  INK — Published  weekly  by  the  Printers'  Ink 
Publishing  Co.,  185  Madison  Avenue,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
John  Irving  Romer,  editor. 

A  trade  paper  for  the  professional  advertiser.  Contains  arti- 
cles on  all  phases  of  the  advertising  business. 

THE  INLAND  PRINTER— Published  monthly  by  the 
Inland  Printer  Company,  632  Sherman  Street,  Chi- 
cago, 111.     Harry  Hillman,  editor. 

Devoted  to  articles  on  printing  and  typography.  Contains 
much  information  of  value  to  the  editor  and  advertising  man. 

THE  PRINTERS'  INK  MONTHLY— Published  monthly 
by  the  Printers'  Ink  Publishing  Co.,  185  Madison  Ave- 
nue, New  York,  N.  Y.    John  Irving  Romer,  editor. 
Contains  articles  by  qualified  writers  on  advertising  copy  of 
all  kinds,  house  organ  making,  and  general  publicity. 

THE  PUBLISHERS'  WEEKLY— Published  weekly  by 
R.  R.  Bowker  Co.,  62  West  45th  Street,  New  York, 
N.  Y.    R.  R.  BowKER,  editor.   Frederick  C.  Melcher, 
managing  editor. 
The  trade  paper  of  the  booksellers  and  publishers. 

[283] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 

THE  BULLETIN  OF  THE  AUTHORS'  LEAGUE  OF 
AMERICA — Published  monthly  by  The  Authors' 
League  of  America,  Inc.,  22  East  17th  Street,  New 
York. 

A  constant  source  of  timelj  and  important  information  on 
matters  of  direct  interest  and  value  to  autiiors. 

THE  LIBRARY  JOURNAL— Published  semi-monthly  by 
R.  R.  Bowker  Co.,  62  West  45th  Street,  New  York, 
N.  Y.     Elkanor  Duncan,  editor. 

Contains  news  of  the  library  field  and  of  the  practical  eflForts 
made  to  increase  the  public  use  of  books. 


[284] 


INDEX 


Accounts,  statement  of,  175, 
176. 

Actors,  letters  to,  151,  153; 
submitting  plays  to,  151. 

Adams,  Education  of  Henry, 
128. 

Address,  author's,  122,  210. 

Advance  royalties,  173. 

Advertising,  business,  237; 
commissions,  239;  copy,  53, 
238;  misleading,  101;  pub- 
lishers', 53,  63,  140,  180,  214, 
224;  royalties  diverted  to, 
131;  theatrical,   155. 

Advice,   legal,    183. 

Agent,  literary  (see.  Literary 
agent). 

Agreement,  memorandum  of, 
164. 

Agreements,  flexible,  178;  for- 
mal, 164;  gentlemen's,  165, 
178;  slipshod,  168;  verbal, 
168. 

Alden,  Henry  Mills,  84. 

AUentown,  Pa.,  256. 

Amateur  productions,   152. 

American  and  English  temper- 
aments,  xi. 

American    newspapers,   224. 

American    Magazine,    The,    39. 

American  Publishers'  Copy- 
right League,  185. 

American    Red   Cross,    71. 

A  Notable  Increase  in  Book 
Dealers,  256. 


Anthologies,    162, 

Application  for  U.  S.  Copy- 
right,  188. 

Apprenticeship,   90,   91. 

Arabian  Nights,  268. 

Arbitration  clause,  182. 

Arlington,  36. 

Art,  242. 

Art  and  Business  of  Story 
Writing,  The,  xv. 

Art  of  Printing,  124. 

Assignments,  writing  by,  24, 
35. 

Associate  editor  of  Every- 
body's Magazine,  39. 

Atlantic  City,  256. 

Atlantic  Monthly,  The,  29,  134.. 

Audience,  motion  picture,  205; 
syndicate,  248. 

Authors'  books,  65,  66,  126, 
131. 

Authors'  Club  (N.  Y.),  The, 
195. 

Authors'  League  of  America, 
The,  134,  145,  169,  171,  176, 
189,  213;  Bulletin  of  (see. 
Bulletin)  ;  Executive  Commit- 
tee of,  171;  ExecutiA'e  Sec- 
retary of,  XV ;  form  of  pub- 
lishers'  contract,    170. 

Authorship,   career   of,   xiv. 

Automatic  writing,  97. 

Bara,  Theda,  206. 
Barbour,  Ralph   Henry,  46. 


[285] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 


Bargaining,  76. 

Barnes,  Earl,  262. 

Barrie,  James  M.,  160. 

Barrymore,  John,  206. 

Bayshore,  N.  Y.,  256. 

Beach,  Rex,   196. 

Beerbohm,  Max,  76. 

Berlin,    184. 

Bibliography,   purpose  of,   xiv. 

Billy  Sunday:  The  Man  and 
His  Message,  105. 

Binding,  124. 

Birth  Control  Review,  The, 
261. 

Birth  of  a  Nation,  The,  212. 

"Block"   parties,  236. 

Bonus,  cash,  157,  173. 

Book   Caravan,  256. 

Book,  dummy,  62;  jacket,  62, 
124;  manuscript  entry,  24, 
48. 

Book  House  (N.  Y.),  268. 

Bookman  Magazine,  The,  vii, 
ix,   32,   35,   41,    90,    199,   259. 

Book  reviewing,  221-234;  pay- 
ment  for,  232-234. 

Book  rights,  169,  189,  193,  196, 
243. 

Book  Publishers,  National  As- 
sociation of,  263. 

Books,  highly  successful,  104; 
how  acquired  by  publishers, 
61-62;  in  French,  259;  monu- 
mental, 132;  number  pub- 
lished, 155;  of  Jewish  in- 
terest, 259;  privately  printed, 
64-66,  127,  128;  review  copies, 
64,  177,  222;  sought  for  by 
publishers,  61 ;  toy,  268. 

Booksellers,  functions  of,  257; 
increase  in  number  of,  255; 
new  order  of,  257;  old  order 
of,  252-253. 

[286] 


Bookselling,  as  a  profession, 
269;  as  a  vocation  for  wom- 
en, 263. 

Bookshops,  children's,  268; 
drama,  163,  267;  increase  in 
number  of,  256;  new,  x;  lit- 
tle, 259-269;  orientalia,  267; 
poetry,  264;  publishing  by, 
265;  social  life  of,  264-265; 
specialty,  266-269 ;  women's, 
262. 

Bookstores,  buyers  of  the,  63; 
three  kinds  of,  258-259. 

Box  oflSce  receipts,  154;  gross, 
158;  net,  158. 

Boston,   268. 

Brady,  J.  E.,  207. 

Brett,  George  Piatt,  134-135. 

Bridgeport,   Ct.,   142. 

Briggs,  Clare,  247. 

British,  copyright  law,  186; 
sales,   186. 

Broker,  play,  147,  150;  dis- 
honest,   151, 

Broom,  41. 

Buffalo,  252,  256,  265. 

Bulletin  of  the  Authors' 
League  of  America,  xv,  105, 
137,  170,  176,  184,  189,  194; 
complete  file  of,  xv;  first  is- 
sue   of,   XV. 

Burlesque,   The   Columbia,   205. 
Buyers      of      the      bookstores, 
63. 


Canada,   175;    registry   in,    186. 

Canadian  sales,   186. 

Capital,  publishers',  64,  128, 
154,  166;  theatrical  produc- 
ers', 157. 

Caravan,   book,  256, 

Carbon  copies,  109, 


INDEX 


Career,     of     authorship,     xiv; 

playwrighting,    155;    writing, 

xiv,  23. 
Cast,  size  of,  208,  210. 
Catalog,   copy   for,   62. 
Century  Syndicate,  The,  246. 
Chaplin,   Charles,   20G. 
Chapters,   in   manuscripts,    114. 
Cheap   editions,  174. 
Cherry,  84. 

Chesterton,  G.   K.,  247. 
Chicago,     135,     141,     255,     256, 

268;   Evening   Post,   255. 
Children's     books,     268;     book- 
shops, 268;  plays,  267. 
Christmas,  stories,  23;  numbers 

of  magazines,  23. 
Cincinnati,   256. 
Circus,  The,  237. 
Classified    list    of    periodicals, 

41. 
Clean  play,   163. 
Clippings,  press,   161. 
Clip   sheets,   221. 
Closet   drama,   159. 
Club,    The    Authors'    (N.    Y.), 

195;    Yale,   263. 
Clubs,  dramatic,   153. 
Cobb,    Irvin,   234. 
Code,  penal,   183. 
Colonial,     rights,      186;     sales, 

186. 
Columbia  Burlesque,  The,  205. 
Columnists,  225. 
Come  on  letters,  136. 
Commission,  144;  play  broker's, 

150. 
Commission   basis,   manuscripts 

offered  for  sale  on,  88. 
Commissions,    advertising,    239. 
Competition,   100. 
Competitive  spirit,  98. 
Complication,   202,   211. 


Composing    room,    115. 

Congress,  The  Library  of,  187, 
195. 

Contents,  table   of,   xiv. 

Continuity,  202,  203. 

Contracts,  124,  140,  157,  164- 
182;  a  standard  form  of 
publishers',  170;  for  educa- 
tional books,  168;  for  fiction 
and  general  use,  168;  terms 
of,   164,   172. 

Convention,  International 
Copyright,    184;    Berlin,    184. 

Co-operative   publishing,   142. 

Copy,  advertising,  238;  catalog, 
62;  engraver's,  120. 

Copyright,  183-197;  American 
Publishers'  Copyright 
League,  185;  Application  for, 
188;  British  law,  186;  ex- 
pense of,  138;  in  author's 
name,  131,  189;  Internation- 
al, 183;  International  Copy- 
right Convention,  184;  Inter- 
national Copyright  Union, 
184;  Canadian  and  English, 
186;  Office,  187;  Register  of, 
188;  ownership  of,  170,  189, 
193-197;  term  of  United 
States,  187. 

Copy  writing,  237;  pay  for, 
238-239. 

Corrections,  109,  115,  116;  cost 
of,   117. 

Correspondence  school,  courses 
in,  88,  203;  praise  from, 
88. 

Correspondents,  newspaper, 

216. 

Costume  dramas,  206. 

Costumes,   155. 

Courier  Journal,  of  Louisville, 
Ky.,  69. 


[287] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 


Courses,  correspondence  school, 

88;     photoplaywriting,     203; 

short  story,  199. 
Craftsmanship,  defective,  61. 
Crane,  Frank,  249. 
Crane,    Stephen,    128. 
Creative    imagination,    151. 
Creative  writing,  small  demand 

for,  100,  101. 
Crisis,  202. 
Criticism,  from  literary  agents, 

77;   from   play  brokers,   150; 

from   publishers,  44,   59,    77; 

sought,  99. 
Cumulative   Index,    The,   253. 
Cutting   editor,  212. 

Dam  vs.  Kirke  La  Shelle,  197. 

Dealers,  A  Notable  Increase  in 
Book,   256. 

Defective   craftsmanship,   61. 

de   la  Mare,  Walter,  128. 

Deland,  Margaret,   134. 

Denver,  256. 

Destiny    of    a    manuscript,    34. 

Detour,  The,  161. 

De  Vinne,  Theodore  Low,  124. 

Dial,   The,    159,   196. 

Director,   stage,   147,  158. 

Doran,  George  H.,  Company, 
164. 

Dream  book,  259. 

Drama   bookshop,   163,   267. 

Dramas,  closet,  159;  costume, 
206. 

Dramatic   clubs,   153. 

Dramatic  rights,  150,  169,  189, 
191,  196,  243. 

Dramatization,  169. 

Drawings,  to  accompany  manu- 
scripts,  120. 

Drummond,   Henry,   127. 

Dummy  book,  62. 


Easy  money,  93. 

Editing,  144,  241 ;  accepted 
manuscripts,  60,  115;  plays, 
156. 

Editions,  cheap,  174;  new,  175, 
188. 

Editor  magazine,  The,  207. 

Editorial  routine,  of  periodi- 
cals, 24;  of  publishing 
houses,   48. 

Editorial  writers,  216. 

Editor  of  The  Saturday  Eve- 
ning Post,  38. 

Editors,  friends  of,  24;  calling 
upon,  24;  interviews  with, 
33;  letters  from,  44,  78;  let- 
ters to,  30,  77;  play  manu- 
scripts submitted  to,  158; 
prejudices,  33,  34. 

Education,   98,    105. 

Education  of  Henry  Adams, 
128. 

Electrotyping   process,    119. 

Ellis,    William   T.,    105. 

Encouragement  of  friends,  45, 
94,  95. 

England,  175;  registry  in, 
186. 

English  and  American  temper- 
aments, xi. 

English  rights,   158,   186. 

Engraver's  copy,   120. 

Entertainments,    literary,    264. 

Evening  Post,  Chicago,  255; 
New  York,  266;  Saturday, 
38,   83,   84,  85. 

Everybody's  Magazine,  29,  39; 
associate  editor  of,  39. 

Exhibitions  of  bookplates, 
bindings,  etc.,  263. 

Export    sales,    174. 

Express,  manuscripts  returned 
by,  25. 


[288] 


INDEX 


Fairbanks,  Douglas,  206. 
Fame,    craving    for,    93,    100; 

enduring,  99. 
Farrar,  John,  ix,  32. 
Father      Confessors,      literary 

agents   as,   86. 
Feature    story,    234;    field    of 

the,   234-237. 
Fees,  charged  by  play  brokers, 

150. 
Finney,  Street   and,  237. 
First  book,  171,  187. 
First  Little  Bookshop,  260. 
First      play,      156;       Sardou's, 

147. 
Flexible    agreements,   178. 
Footnotes,  in  manuscripts,  114. 
Foreign  rights,  169,  196. 
Formal  agreements,  164. 
Formal  rejection  slips,  78. 
Format,    109. 
Forty-seventh  street,  N.  Y.  C, 

257. 
Foul   proofs,   117. 
Fox,  Fontaine,  244,  247. 
F.   P.   A.,  249. 
Free  copies,  of  books,  138,  173, 

223;  of  plays,  158. 
Free   lance  writing,   102. 
Friends  of  editors,  24,  32;  ref- 
erence to,  32. 
Friends,    praise    from,    45,    94, 

95. 
Functions    of,    literary    agents, 

75-77;   booksellers,   257. 

Galley,   115. 

Galley  proofs,  115,   116,   118. 
Galsworthy,  John,  43,   160. 
Gentlemen's     agreements,     165, 

178. 
Georgia,  93. 
Goodwin,  William,  268. 


Greenwich    Village,    255,    261, 

266. 
Griffith,  D.  W.,  211-212. 
Gross  receipts,  158. 
Guild,    The    Theater,    152,    159. 
Guilds,  theater,   152. 

Hand  written  manuscripts,  109, 

143,   209. 
Harper  and  Brothers,  253. 
Harvard,    257. 
Hazlitt,  William,  220. 
He  Who  Gets  Slapped,  159. 
Hill,  David  Jayne,  234. 
Hill,  Murray,  vii,  ix,  x. 
Hippodrome,    the    New    York, 

155,  205,  207. 
Holliday,   Robert   Cortes,   x. 
Holt     and     Company,     Henry, 

168. 
Home     Journal,     The     Ladies', 

29,  83. 
House  organs,   240. 
Hughes,   Rupert,  234. 
Human  interest,  162. 
Human  nature,  202. 

Idea,    The,    60. 

Ideas,   202. 

Illustrations,  115,  120,  124, 
138,  174,  238. 

Imagination,  96,  108,  151. 

Imitation,   43,   230. 

Imprint,   publisher's,   66,   134. 

Income,  author's,  101,  103,  139. 

Incorporated  Society  of  Au- 
thors, Playwrights,  and  Com- 
posers, 185. 

Increase  in  number  of  book- 
shops,   256. 

Index,  The  Cumulative,  253. 

Individuality,  of  magazines, 
40,  41 ;  of  publishing  houses, 
52. 


[289] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 


Instalments,   syndicate,  245. 

Inter-Theater  Arts  Incorporat- 
ed, The,  152. 

International   copyright,    183. 

International  Copyright  Con- 
vention, 184. 

International  Copyright  Union, 
184. 

Interviews  with  editors,  33; 
with  theatrical  managers, 
149. 

In  the  Days  of  the  Comet,  255. 

Introduction,  letters  of,  32, 
228;   to  managers,   149. 

Introspection,  incentive  to,  xiv. 

Investment,  publishers',  64, 
128,  129,  154;  producers', 
154. 

It  Happens  Every  Day,  197. 

Jacket,  book,  62,  124. 
Jenison,  Madge,  260. 
Johnson,  Dr.,  258. 
Jordan,  V.,  39. 
Journals,  trade,  240. 
Jxidge,  29. 

Juvenile  Library  (London), 
267-268. 

Keats,  John,  97. 
Kilmer,  Joyce,   35. 
Kipling,    Rudyard,    195. 
Kirke  La  Shelle,  Dam  vs.,  197. 
Knowledge     of     theater,     152, 

162. 
Kreymborg,  Alfred,  265. 

Lack   of  training,   CI,   98,   105. 
Ladies'     Home    Journal,     The, 

29,   83. 
La   Farge,  John,  107. 
Le  Gallienne,  Richard,  35. 
Lake  Michigan,  256, 


Lamb,  Charles  and  Mary, 
268. 

Lasky,  209. 

Lawsuits,   147. 

Leacock,    Stephen,   247. 

League,  American  Publishers' 
Copyright,  185. 

Lectures,   literary,   263. 

Lee,  Gerald  Stanley,  238. 

Legal  advice,   183. 

Letters,  come  on,  136;  from 
editors,  44,  78;  of  introduc- 
tion, 32,  228;  of  recommen- 
dation, 227,  228;  of  trans- 
mission, 190;  referring  to 
this  book,  x;  to  actors,  151, 
153;  to  editors,  30,  77;  to 
literary  agents,  69,  70-72,  80, 
82,  86,  91,  92,  109,  110;  to 
publishing  houses,  46,  49,  50, 
51 ;  to  scenario  editors,  198, 
199,  200;  to  theatrical  mana- 
gers,  149,   153. 

Lewis,  Sinclair,   79. 

Library  of  Congress,  The,  187, 
195. 

Libraries,  juvenile,  267-268. 

Liberator,  The,  261. 

Literary  agent,  24,  144,  150, 
190,  213;  as  Father  Confes- 
sor, 86;  choice  of,  76;  func- 
tions of,  75-77;  letters  to, 
69,  70-72,  80,  82,  86,  91,  92, 
109,  110;  play  departments, 
150;  writers'  relations  with, 
87. 

Literary  entertainments,  264. 

Literary  magazines,  233. 

Literary  market,  xiii. 

Literary   notes,  63. 

Little  bookshops,  the  first,  260. 
(See  also.  Bookshops  and 
Bookstores.) 


[290] 


INDEX 


Little  Church  Around  the 
Corner,  The,  260. 

Little  theater  movement,  260. 

Little  theaters,  161. 

Local  color,  235. 

London,   143,  264,  268. 

London  Mercury,   The,  2o9. 

London,  Old  and  Neu\  126. 

Longacre  Square,  N.  Y.  C,  236. 

Longfellow,  William  Wads- 
worth,   127. 

Louisville,  Ky.,  Courier  Jour- 
nal of,  69. 

Macbeth,  161. 

MacCarthy,  Frank,  38. 

Macmillan  Company,  The,  134- 
135. 

MacNaught  Syndicate,  The, 
246. 

Magazine,  The  American,  39; 
The  Bookman,  vii,  ix,  33,  35, 
41,  90,  199,  259;  Everi/bodi/s, 
29,   39;   Metropolitan,   29. 

Magazines,  all-star,  42;  char- 
acter and  needs,  52;  literary, 
233;  number  of,  101;  poli- 
cies, 27;  requirements,  27; 
study  of,  40,  41,  43;  using 
one-act  plays,  158. 

Mail,  submitting  manuscripts 
by,  24. 

Main  street,  Greenwich  Village, 
261. 

Manager,  147;  writing  to,  149. 

Managers,  interviews  with, 
149;  introduction  to,  149; 
letters  to,   153. 

Manuscript,  plaj^,   146. 

Manuscripts,  appearance  of, 
25,  110-115,  125,  209;  carbon 
copies,  109;  criticising,  150; 
completed,  39,  40;  destiny  of. 


34;  destroyed  or  lost,  49; 
entry  book  of,  24,  48;  hand- 
written, 49,  109,  143,  209; 
hints  for  selling,  36,  37; 
in  long  hand,  49;  received  in 
one  daj%  25;  revision  by 
agents,  77,  144,  150;  by  pub- 
lishers, 60,  77;  returned  by 
express,  25;  safety  of,  28; 
solicited,  146 ;  typewritten, 
111,  209;  unsolicited,  41,  42, 
146,  147,  150,  200,  212,  246, 
247;  ways  of  selling,  24,  35; 
where  to  send,  28. 

Manuscript  readers,  25,  51,  55, 
101,  146. 

Manuscript  reading,  241. 

Marginalia,   219. 

Margins,   manuscript.   111. 

Market,  literary,  xiii. 

Masefield,  John,  255. 

Mason,  Walt,  249, 

McFee,  William,  xv,  60,  106, 
265;  letter  from,  90,  106. 

Meighan,    Thomas,   210. 

Melcher,  Frederick  C,  xv. 

Melodrama,  206. 

Memorandum  of  agreement, 
164. 

Memories,   acquired,  107. 

Mencken,  H.  L.,  237. 

Mercury,   The  London,  259. 

Metro  Picture  Corporation, 
207. 

Metropolitan  Magazine,  The, 
29. 

Miami,  Fla.,  256. 

Mimeographed   plays,    161. 

Minneapolis,    263. 

Misleading    rejection    slips,   57. 

Missionary   work,   viii. 

Mitchell,  Dr.   S.   Weir,   128. 

Monthly,   The   Writers',  38,  66. 


[291] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 


Monumental  books,  132. 
Moore,  George,  43. 
Morgan,  Wallace,  338. 
Motion    picture    industry,    208; 

misinformation         regarding, 

198. 
Motion      picture      rights,      169, 

191,   196,   203,   209,   314,   343. 
Motion   picture  stage,  207. 
Motion     picture     stories,     191, 

201;  cost  of  production,  306; 

prices    paid     for,    308,    309 ; 

registration     of,      191,     313; 

their  appeal,  205. 
Motives  for  writing,  91,  93. 
Motley,  John  Lothrop,   137. 
Murray  Hill,  vii,  ix,  x. 
Museum  street,  London,  364. 
Music   rights,  169. 
Muse  of  Letters,  xiv, 

Nagasaki,   199. 

Name,  author's,  132,  133,  210, 
214. 

National  Association  of  Book 
Publishers,  263. 

Nation,    The    Birth    of    a,    213. 

Natural  Law  in  the  Spiritual 
World,   137. 

New  Bookshops,  x. 

Net  receipts,  158. 

New  Amsterdam  Roof,  The, 
305. 

New  editions,  175,  188. 

New  Haven,  Ct.,  358. 

New   Milford,   Ct.,   356. 

New  order  of  booksellers,  357. 

New  Orleans,  90,  255,  263. 

News,  335. 

Newspapers,  American,  234 ; 
New  York,  224,  230. 

Newspaper,  reviews,  153;  syn- 
dicates,  190. 


New  York  City,   141,   155,   199, 

207,  256,  365,  268. 
New    York  Evening  Post,   The, 

366. 
New     York     newspapers,     224, 

330. 
North   Carolina,   70. 
Numbering    manuscript    pages, 

112. 

Odeon  theater,  147. 

Old   order  of  booksellers,  253- 

353. 
Options,   177. 
Orientalia   bookshop,   267. 
Originality,  85,  249. 
Orphans        of        the       Storm, 

313. 

Page,  Thomas  Nelson,  128. 
Pageants,   161. 
Page  proofs,   118. 
Pages  of  manuscripts,  number- 
ing, 113,  114. 
Paper,     manuscript,    109,     111, 

309,  310;  book,  134. 
Paragraphs,  in  manuscript,  114. 
Parties,   "Block,"   336. 
Paterson,   N.   J.,  356. 
Payment  for  writing,  101,  102; 

date    of,    102;    vouchers    for, 

102. 
Pedantry,  xiii. 
Penal  code,  183. 
Periodicals,    classified    list    of, 

41. 
Personality  of  photoplay  stars, 

205. 
Personal       relationships,       179, 

180. 
Philadelphia,    256,    258. 
Philadelphia      Public      Ledger 

Syndicate,   The,  245-246. 


[292] 


INDEX 


Photographs,  to  accompany 
manuscripts,   130. 

Photography,  trick,  206. 

Photoplay  (see.  Moving  pic- 
ture  and   Motion   picture). 

Pickford,  Mary,  206. 

Pitkin,  Walter  B.,  xv. 

Plagiarism,  148,  212. 

Plate  proofs,  119. 

Play  broker,  147,  150;  dishon- 
est, 151. 

Players,  The  Provincetown, 
153. 

Play  manuscript,  146,   148. 

Plays,  children's,  267;  clean, 
162;  demand  for,  147;  edit- 
ed, 156;  first,  156;  how  to 
submit,  148-153;  magazines 
using  one-act,  158;  mimeo- 
graphed, 161 ;  number  pro- 
duced in  a  year,  155,  156; 
one-act,  158,  161 ;  publishing, 
160;  revision  of,  156;  sym- 
bolic, 162. 

Play  producing,  risk  of, 
155. 

Playwrighting,    career    of,    155. 

Plots,  stolen,  148.  (See,  also 
plagiarism.) 

Poetry  bookshop,  264. 

Poetry    for    Children,    268. 

Policies,   magazine,  27. 

Post,  Chicago  Evening,  255; 
New  York  Evening,  266;  The 
Saturday  Evening,  38,  83-85. 

Postage,  return,  25. 

Postmaster   General,   145. 

Praise,  from  correspondence 
schools,  88;  from  friends  and 
relatives,  45,  94,  95. 

Premise,  211. 

Prejudices,  editors',  33,  34. 

Press  clippings,  161. 


Princeton,  258. 

Printing,  art  of,  124. 

Printer's   copy,   120. 

Privately  printed  books,  64, 
65,  Qq\  127,  128. 

Producers,  theatrical,  146,  154; 
investment  of,  154. 

Productions,  amateur,  153; 
cost  of,  154,  155,  206;  date  of 
first,   157. 

Profits,  suggestions  of,  139. 

Proof  readers,  116. 

Proof  reading,  116. 

Proofs,  foul,  117;  galley,  115, 
116;  page,  118;  plate,  119; 
revised,   118. 

Provincetown  Players,  The, 
153. 

Public  Ledger  Syndicate,  Phil- 
adelphia, 245-246. 

Public  taste,  103. 

Publication  date,  63,   174. 

Publicity  man,  work  of,  239- 
240. 

Publicity,  53,  180,  221;  notes, 
53. 

Publish,  definition,   64. 

Publishers,  books  sought  by, 
61;  criticism  from,  59,  78; 
dishonest,  48,  65,  135;  indi- 
viduality of,  52;  responsi- 
bility of,  28,  48,  49;  National 
Association  of  Book-,  263; 
plaj'  manuscripts  submitted 
to,  158;  reprint,  174. 

Publishers',  advertising,  53,  63; 
attitude  toward  a  manu- 
script, 78;  capital,  64,  128, 
154,  166;  Copyright  League, 
185;  likes  and  dislikes,  53; 
imprint,  66,  134;  investment, 
64,  128,  129,  154;  publicity 
department,  63;  readers,  101; 

[293] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 


rejection    slips,    31,    44,    78, 

135;  salesmen,  53. 
Publishers'     Weekhj,     The,    xv, 

137,  256. 
Publishing,  co-operative,   142. 
Punch,  xi. 

Queries,    addressed    to    editors, 
38-40. 

Radford,  Ernest,  126. 

Ray,   Charles,   206. 

Reading    manuscripts,    25,    26, 

241;  proofs,  116,  117. 
Readers,    manuscript,     25,    51, 

55;  publishers',  101,  146;  re- 
port of,  25-27,  55. 
Receipts,  box  oflSce,  154;  gross, 

158;  net,   158. 
Bed   Badge    of   Courage,    The, 

128. 
Red  Cross,  American,  71. 
Register     of    Copyrights,     184, 

188. 
Registration       of       photoplay 

scripts,   191,  213. 
Rehearsals,   156. 
Rejection  slips,  31,  44,  78,  135, 

203;    formal,   78;   misleading, 

57;  study  of,  44. 
Relationships,      personal,      179, 

180. 
Relatives,  praise  from,  45,  94, 

95. 
Reporters,  216. 
Report,    reader's,    25,    26,    27, 

55. 
Reprint  publishers,  174. 
Requirements,     magazine,     37; 

screen,  202. 
Return  postage,  25. 
Review,     The     Birth     Control, 

361. 


Review  copies,  64,  175,  222. 

Reviewing,  book,  221-234;  pay- 
ment  for,  232-234. 

Reviews,  newspaper,  153,  221 ; 
signed,  225,  233. 

Revised   proofs,    118. 

Rights,  book,  169,  189,  193, 
196,  243;  colonial,  186;  dra- 
matic, 150,  169,  189,  191,  196, 
243;  English,  158,  186;  for- 
eign, 169,  196;  motion  pic- 
ture, 169,  191,  196,  202,  209, 
214,  243;  music,  169;  serial, 
169,  189,  193,  243;  syndicate, 
244;  translation,  169,  191, 
196. 

Rise  of  the  Dutch  Republic, 
The,  127. 

Risk  of  play  producing,  155. 

Robinson,  Edwin  Arlington, 
258. 

Roosevelt,  Theodore,  233. 

Routine,   editorial,   24,   48. 

Royalties,  47,  103,  130,  141, 
154,  157-158,  193;  advance, 
173. 

Royalty,  167,  170,  172;  divert- 
ed to  advertising,  131 ;  state- 
ments, 175;  received  on 
plays,  150,   157. 


Salaries,  155. 

Sales,     British,     Colonial,     and 

Canadian,    186;    export,    174. 
Salesmen,  publishers',  53. 
San  Diego,  256. 
San  Francisco,  70,  265. 
Saturday    Evening    Post,    The, 

29,  38,  83,  84,  85;  editor  of, 

38. 
Sardou,  Victorien,  147. 
Scenario,   form  of,  204. 


[294] 


INDEX 


Scenery,  transportation  charges 

for, '  155. 
School,    correspondence,    praise 

from,  88. 
Screen  requirements,  202. 
Seattle,  26S. 
Selling      manuscripts,      before 

writing   them,   35,   235;   ways 

of,  24;   on  commission,  88. 
Selling     published     books,      in 

England    and    Canada,    186; 

wholesale,  63. 
Selling   play   manuscripts,    150, 

157. 
Serial  rights,  169,  189,  193,  2-13. 
Shakespeare,    Tales    from,    268. 
Shakespeare,  William,  68, 
Shaw,  Bernard,  43. 
Sheets,  clip,  221. 
Sheik,  The,  209. 
Shelby,   N.   C,  256, 
Shelley,  Mary,  268. 
Short     Story     writing,     corre- 
spondence courses  on,  88,  199. 
Siddal,  John  M.,  39. 
Sign,  electric,  211. 
Signed  book   reviews,  225,  233. 
Sillcox,   Miss   Luise,   xv. 
Simplicity  of  style,  xiii. 
Slipshod  agreements,   168. 
Small     bookshop     (see.     Little 

bookshops ) . 
Solberg,   Thorwald,    184. 
Solution,  211. 
Spacing,    hand-written    matter, 

112;     printed     matter,     122; 

typewritten  matter,  111,  112, 

210. 
Specialty  bookshops,  266-269. 
Spectacles,  206. 
Spiritual   World,   Natural  Laio 

in  the,   127. 
Stage  director,  147,  156. 


Stage  effects,  155. 

Stage,   photoplay,  207. 

Standard  form  of  publishers' 
contract,  a,  170. 

Stars,  photoplay,  205-206;  per- 
sonality of,  205. 

Statement  of  royalty  account, 
175,   176. 

Stephen,  Leslie,  68. 

St.  Louis,  256. 

Stories,  Christmas,  23;  motion 
picture,  191,  201. 

Story,  feature,  234. 

Story  Writing,  The  Art  and 
Business  of,  xv. 

Street,  Julian,  237. 

Street   and   Finney,  237. 

Student's  Tavern,   The,   147. 

Studio,  211. 

Study  of  magazines,  40,  41,  43. 

Study  of  rejection  slips,  34, 
41,  78,  57. 

Stunt  pictures,  206. 

Style,  simplicity  of,  xiii. 

Success,  craving  for,  93;  liter- 
ary, 220;  sunshine  of,  31; 
journalistic,   217. 

Sunday,  Billy,  The  Man  and 
His  Mess  a  ye,   105. 

Swords,  161. 

Symbolic  plays,  162. 

Syndicate  matter,  234;  rights, 
244. 

Syndicate,  221;  kinds  of,  245- 
'246;  The  Century,  246;  The 
MacNaught,  246;  The  Phila- 
delphia Public  Ledger,  245- 
246;  newspaper,  190;  tempo- 
rary, 245;  The  Wheeler,  246. 

Synopsis,  39,  49,  59,  210. 

Table  of  contents,  xiv. 
"Takes,"   123. 


[295] 


THE  BUSINESS  OF  WRITING 


Talent,   198. 

Tales    from    Shakespeare,    268. 

Tarkington,   Booth,  84,  156. 

Taste,  162. 

Technicalities,    in    manuscripts, 

60,  73. 
Technique,  152. 
Temperament,       English       and 

American,  xi. 
Term   of   United   States   copy- 
right, 187. 
Theater  Guild,  The,  152,  159. 
Tlieater,  knowledge  of,  152. 
Theaters,  Httle,  161. 
Theatrical    producers,    146. 
Title,  211,  214;  entry  book,  24, 

48;  place  for,  210;  length  of 

photoplay,  211. 
Title  man,  212. 
"To  the  Vanity  Publisher,  Sir," 

She  Said,  126. 
Towne,  Charles  Hanson,  238. 
Trade  journals,  240. 
Training,  198;  lack  of,  61,  98, 

105. 
Train,  Arthur  C,  191,  194. 
Translating,  241. 
Translation,     187;    prices    paid 

for,   169,   191,  196. 
Translation    rights,    169,   191. 
Transportation       charges       for 

scenery,   155. 
Trick   photography,   206. 
Type  pages,  118,  il9,  124. 
Typesetters,   115. 
Typewritten    manuscripts,    209. 


Union,  International  Copy- 
right, 184. 

Unknown  Soldier,  The,  29, 
36. 

United  States,  156,  175. 


United  States  Circuit  Court  of 
Appeals,   197. 

Vanity     publishers,     126,     127, 

138. 
Van    Rensselaer,   Alexander   T. 

M.,  X. 
Verbal   agreements,   168. 
Verse,  book  of,  172. 
Village,    Greenwich,    255,    261, 

266. 
Vocabulary,   72. 
Vouchers,   102. 

Ward,  Sir  Adolphus  William, 
159. 

Washington,  D.  C,   188,  256. 

Washington  Square,  N.  Y.  C, 
261. 

Washington  Square  Bookshop, 
261. 

Wells,  Carolyn,  220. 

Wells,  H.  G.,  255. 

West  Forty-seventh  street,  N. 
Y.  C,  257. 

Whistler,  James  Abbott  Mc- 
Neill, 242. 

Whipping  into  shape,  of  ma- 
terial,  72;    of   plays,    156. 

Woman's  bookshop,  the  first, 
262. 

Woman's  Ho-me  Companion, 
The,  260. 

Women,  a  happy  vocation  for, 
262, 

Women's  National  Book  Asso- 
ciation, 260. 

Women's   bookshops,   262. 

What  Do  Boys  Know?  259. 

Wheeler  Syndicate,  The,  246. 

Writer,  The,  143. 

Writers,   editorial,   216. 

Writers'  Monthly,   The,  38,  66. 


[296] 


INDEX 


Writing,  assignments  for,  24, 
35;  automatic,  97;  small  de- 
mand for  creative,  100,  101 ; 
free  lance,  103;  payment  for, 
102;  career,  23. 

Writing,  motive   for,  91-92. 


Writing  the  feature  story,  236- 

237. 

Yale   Club,  263. 

Yale   University  Press,  258. 

Y.  M.  C.  A.,  161. 


[297] 


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